


Peggy Bell I Love You Please Be My Wife (Part 2)

by twowritehands



Series: Peggy Bell I Love You Please Be My Wife [1]
Category: Cranford - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other, Trans Female Character, Victorian cross dressing, boy in a dress, femboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/twowritehands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that William Buxton has made his proposal to Peggy Bell, they must face the realities of how they will be together. With their families, the church teachings, and all of society against them should their secret be revealed, William and Peggy have to learn to fight for the love they know is not a sin.</p><p>The question is not WILL a wealthy gentleman wed a girl trapped in a boy's body, but CAN he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 2 Chapter 1

Peggy walked in silence beside William down the lane to her cottage, her pale little face turned down to hide under the brim of her bonnet, eyes fixed to the road. After passing some time in William’s arms down by the stream, she had drawn water and cleaned her face and William had insisted that he see her home and inform her family of their betrothal. He walked beside her now, his long legs cutting their easy stride in half to accommodate her pensive pace.

As high as her spirits had soared only minutes ago in the arms of her love as he spoke such cherished words of devotion… her heart dragged the ground now. Reality had set in and with it, a bitter understanding that just because she wanted a thing did not mean she should take it.

She could feel William casting her worried looks as she fell more and more into misery, eventually even taking her hand from the crook of his arm and walking with space between them. She could scarcely bear to even look at him, knowing full well how handsome he had always been and how recent developments would take those good looks and magnify them to untold extremes so that once she looked she could never look away.

 _He loved her back_. He’d said it, declared it without shame. And it had been in his eyes more than his words. In the way he had held her as they sat under the rushing music of the stream. The way he kissed her… Oh, sweet joy; it seemed at once a tenacious and fragile thing.

But… How?

“Pray, tell me your thoughts.” William spoke quietly, eyes still affixed to her as they walked.

“We cannot marry,” she instantly returned. Her voice sounded as strained and choked as her soul.

William took her hand, warm fingers squeezing hers. “Did we not just agree that we would?”

“Billy…” she sighed, eyes pricking with tears. “We must not be foolish. The fact is that I am not a suitable wife for anyone—“

“I will not have you speak so,” William cut in firmly. “My heart is set on you, Peggy Bell.”

“Even if we truly intended to go against God by making vows in a church, our families would not give their blessings.”

William was quiet for a time and then he said, “We will convince them, as I have been convinced, that this love is not wrong. Our union will please God.”

“How can you believe that?”

“I have never felt this way before, Peggy.” He moved in front of her, halting their progress down the lane towards her home. His eyes were filled with that unnamable light. His smile stunning with the full force of its sincerity. “But I know what it is.” He took her hand between both of his and brought it halfway between his mouth and his heart. “It is _unmistakable_.”

“What do you anticipate in our union?” She asked suddenly, hearing it in her own voice, sharpness and confidence. She pulled her hand away. “I will never be a sodomite, Billy.”

Blushing, he cut his eyes to her and away, “I would not ask you to be.”

“You will be satisfied thus?”

“My!” he exclaimed, and dancing eyes alight with love fell back on her face, “you are very forward.”

“The subject is of upmost importance, Billy. This is not some frivolous matter. For all intents and purposes you will be binding yourself to a man. If you take me, you will never _be_ with a woman as you have no doubt always imagined. And you will never have children.”

Somber, eyes on the ground, he nodded, “Sacrifices I am willing to make if I could but bring you a piece of the happiness you have brought me.”

It could not be that he felt so. It simply could not be. Peggy, nearing a panic, grasped at straws. “Without heirs what will come of the Buxton inheritance?”

“I have cousins aplenty who will rejoice.”

She stamped her foot, anger overwhelming her fear, “You are taking this matter far too lightly, Billy Buxton!”

His eyes flashed, the love replaced briefly with the heat of his own temper, “Because I speak so decidedly, you are sure I am acting on whimsy!”

Peggy liked this a great deal more than all the love making. This she had always expected. She had prepared for this. A fight. An endless fight for Peggy. That was all life could ever be. With her chin up she said, “I find it difficult to believe that _I_ am what you want.”

His shoulders dropped a fraction, and he pursed his lips, turning partly away. Peggy could sense his frustration with her and answered it with stubbornness. He was being a silly fool. She, alone, would have to do the job to get them back on proper course. Far from this romantic nonsense he started on the train.

“We are being honest,” he said, eyes cutting to her, weight shifting between his feet. His pink tongue dashed across his lips and he said, “So I will freely say that I find it just as hard to believe my own feelings. But there they are, and they will not be ignored.”

Peggy held his green, resolute gaze for a long moment, feeling herself cut adrift when for years she had always felt securely anchored. With the guidance of her father’s discussions, Peggy had been sure of her place in the world, what she could expect out of it. This—William Buxton making ardent love to her—this was nothing she ever believed she deserved.

With a shake of her head and a miserable sigh, Peggy sidestepped him and continued on her way down the lane towards home. “I do not understand why this is happening.”

He caught her up easily in just two strides, walking with his body turned in towards hers. “Because we are all of us made to belong to one another. You said it yourself, Peggy Bell.”

“Perhaps this is a test…” Peggy mused eyes drifting up to the tree tops. “God strengthens us through trials.”

“Are you suggesting my love for you is a _trail_ that you must _overcome_?” He looked so aghast that a sob tore out of Peggy at the sight of it. Harsh and painful, it ripped at her throat and burned her eyes and nose. Tears ran freely, a break in a crumbling dam. In the next moment William had scooped her against his chest once again.

She had only been here twice and already it was her favorite place in the world, more than the bridge at the stream, more than that place in her head where she could dream without restraint. William was so solid, so real and holding her so close. She could feel his heart. She had never, ever, been embraced long enough to feel another’s heart.

“What if…” he murmured against her temple as her sobs tapered off, “What if our trial is not to ignore this love but to hold fast to it? God made you like you are and brought me to you in order to determine if we would obey our love—Him—over everything else. Our trial will be standing together no matter what the church or our family or our community says. Does that not seem more like something God would ask of us?”

“We cannot know what God will ask of us.”

“We can,” he laughed, “My dearest, are you forgetting that God never asks more of us than we can give? I, for one, cannot give you up, and thus God must not be asking it of me.”

The effect his words had on Peggy was the same as if an anchor had been finally cast down to hold her in place once more. No longer did she feel an overwhelming sense of loss or confusion.

She turned the argument over and over in her mind and found it to be sound, and more than that, comforting. It struck her as precisely the conclusion her father would have arrived at. The late Mr. Bell had always been determined to ensure that God was never cast as anything but a warm and caring heavenly father; and Peggy’s happiness had always been paramount.

Her decision made, she smoothed her palms on William’s lapels allowing herself to press in closer ever so slightly. His chuckle resonated in his chest under her ear. “I have convinced you.”

“You have.”

“So you _will_ marry me?”

Joyous laughter bubbled over with the tears that slipped from her lashes, “I will.”

<<>><<><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

William had never lingered in Bell Cottage. The only occasion he had ever entered it, he had been in and straight back out again. Sitting for tea in the small, modest room, Spartan in décor and wealth, he tried his best not to fidget. He loved Peggy, and he would marry her the moment he could, but it had only just occurred to him that he had--without forethought or preparation-- stepped into the house to _tell_ (not ask) Mrs. Bell and Edward, the man of the family, that he planned to wed Peggy.

In the lane it had been the next logical step. In the lane, he had believed it to be a simple thing: go in and ask for her hand. In the lane, the task before him had been set up as a triumph easily enough won. After all, he had gotten Peggy to agree to the wedding twice. A part of him had always thought wooing the girl would be the hardest part whenever he chose his bride, and that the rest, her family’s blessing, would fall into place. And why should it not? He was a Buxton, respectful, wealthy, educated. Any family would pay dearly to give him their daughter.

Naturally, that _would_ have been the case here, if Peggy were a conventional girl.

Had William possessed forethought on the matter, he would have put the occasion off to a later date, given himself time to prepare, to order his arguments, to practice his respectability when discussing what would no doubt be a delicate issue: Peggy’s manhood and his intentions of binding himself to it for life. Oh yes, he would have preferred significant time to get all of that in order.

Alas, William was already in and Peggy preparing tea as Mrs. Bell offered him the best seat in the room before he realized he might have rushed into battle without proper training. That he was perhaps going out of his depth. He cleared his throat more than usual and relied on manners to get through the worst of the silences.

The news set heavy in the forefront of his mind as they got through all the polite conversations of weather and local gossip, his father and the progress of the railway. Once the tea was served, Peggy--splendid little thing of brightness and beauty that she was--did a delightful job at buying him a quarter of the hour to further prepare himself as she recounted her first ever ride on the rails. She cast him little sideways looks and crooked grins that told him she knew he was floundering in the face of his duty. With these grins, one of her eyebrows lifted ever so much and in that miniscule movement, he heard her challenge.

 _Do as you said you would, Billy. Do not disappoint me now_.

Pushing him towards greatness with not but a twitch in her brow. What a wife she would make.

Steel in his spine, a long lull in conversation, and William just said it. “Peggy has agreed to marry me.”

Mrs. Bell and Edward both gave a great lurch of surprise. Their eyes went round. Edwards’ face went red with anger, his eyes intent on Peggy as if blaming her. Meanwhile Mrs. Bell’s cheeks went red with shame. 

“Unfortunately,” the lady started with a light tremor in her voice but before she could give the rest of whatever excuse she had prepared, William spoke up.

“I know all about the secret. I know she was first called Gregory, and that I will never have children. But I love her, and I will marry her.” He took her hand to emphasize this, but also to steady his nerves.

Mrs. Bell stared agape.

“What have you done?” Edward snarled at Peggy.

In the face of this accusation, Peggy met her brother’s eye with a fiery look and lifted her chin. At the sight of it, a rush of devotion warmed William’s chest. He spoke for her, “She has done nothing short of capturing my heart.”

“And so you intend to make vows?” Edward laughed at him.

“Yes,” both Peggy and William said together. William’s temper had flared at Edward’s laugh. No one had ever looked right at him and _laughed_ at him. (Well, no one save his father whenever William spoke of being an engineer.) It was enough to make him wish very badly he wasn’t a gentleman.

“She must never marry,” her mother’s voice was soft but resolute. Unwavering. “He was adamant that Peggy’s purpose be elsewhere.”

“Father never met William,” Peggy said at once to her mother. “If he were here he would be the first person to admit we were wrong.”

“I understand the magnitude of what I am doing,” William cut in right after her, before the family could descend into a debate on what the late Mr. Bell would say. “I know there is no small amount of risk. But her happiness—indeed, both of ours—will be worth it. And, as her husband, I can protect her.”

“Your union would be a sin,” Mrs. Bell said sharply, but slowly.

“Love and devotion is not a sin,” William returned, infusing his words with calmness and respectability though his nerves were on end and he felt fit to scream.

“A union can exist free of sodomy, Mother,” Peggy said, almost eagerly. “And within the vows of marriage, anything else cannot be against God.”

Edward, disinterested in Peggy’s blithering about written plainly on his face, ignored her to ask William, “What has your father to say of this, Mr. Buxton?”

“We have come to you first with the news, but my father likes her—he likes all of you. I should think he would be very pleased with the match.”

“He does not know of her?” Edward asked.

“Er—no.”

“But we will tell him,” Peggy promised.

“Yes,” William said automatically and then frowned.

“How long have you known Peggy’s secret, sir?” Mrs. Bell asked, her words careful and spaced as if she was forcing too much politeness into them.

“Since the first afternoon I came to fetch her to have tea with us.” William admitted proudly. “Believe me, I have had time to get to know her—truly know her for who she is, and I love her. I want nothing more than to make her happy.”

Mrs. Bell’s hand was visibly trembling as she pressed the back of it to her lips, eyes darting back and forth between them. Finally, she asked, wavering voice, “Isn’t your friendship enough to satisfy?”

“I wish that it was,” Peggy said, “I have been praying for weeks that it should be so, but I can fight it no longer. Billy makes me happier than I have ever been and if he offers me not only protection and comfort but also his heart, then I will accept it.”

“Think of the happiness of your youngest child, Mrs. Bell. All you need to ensure it is to allow the Bell family to become one with the Buxtons. She will be much further from suspicion as a gentleman’s wife than as an old maid with little income. And the connection can only ensure Edwards’ success. Will you be my brother?” William asked the other man, extending his hand.

Edward stood stiffly, eyeing the hand. “You were not there when we were driven from our home, Mr. Buxton. Not only was our reputation lost but nearly Peggy’s life and nearly my own as well. Four village men did their best to stone a thirteen year old and her brother _to death_. And that was merely on the _rumor_ that Gregory was glimpsed through the window wearing a dress on Christmas Eve.”

The impact of his words left the cottage in silence. William, still standing with his hand out, looked down into Peggy’s eyes, as if he might see that terrible past played out there in pictures. Edward continued, “You do realize that by forging this union, we only increase the ire of those around us. If it gets out again, may God help us all.”

Edward clasped William’s hand.


	2. Part 2 Chapter 2

Peggy sat up that night, dreaming--for the first time in her life--of her wedding day. Giggles of delight erupted at random. Her chest swelled periodically with a helpless sigh of contentment. She danced across her bedroom as she prepared for bed and thought of when her dear William had said good night to her in the yard.

_“Oh!” he had suddenly gasped and clutched at her left hand. “My dear, I’m so sorry. I’ve done this so wrong. You’re meant to have a ring.”_

Peggy had never considered wearing an engagement ring and gulped, feeling butterflies swarm her belly. She had squeezed William’s fingers and assured him that she was not upset over it, that his spontaneity made it ever the more sweet. Nonetheless, he declared that a trip to the jewelers together was the top priority.

In bed, Peggy tried to think of what kind of ring she would prefer, and then imagined her wedding dress and the cheering crowd that would greet them as they stepped out of the church in a rain of rice. She knew that secretly she always wanted this (the epitome of feminine beauty: to wed a rich husband.) And her heart ached with bewildered joy that she was to have it after all. She cried and laughed into her pillow and tried to imagine exactly what her father would say.

He could not have argued with the logic that William had hit upon at the stream. She was not safe alone, and as a kind gentleman’s wife she would not only have protection but comfort and happiness. The late Mr. Bell would have given his blessing on this marriage—with one condition. (Here Peggy could not pretend ignorance.) Celibacy.

The word put chills on her skin with its weight and significance. She feared for half an hour that William would give her up once he had proper time to think on it, but the paranoia ebbed just before sunrise as his sweet parting words returned to her.

_Tomorrow, my love._

><<>><<>><<>>< 

William had gone straight home to make his announcement only to find that the railway excursion party had ended with Captain Brown taking Mr. Buxton to meet other important persons and that Erminia had retired early. William sat up waiting for his father to return whilst deliberating on whether or not telling him the truth about Peggy would be at all wise.

The honorable thing would be to tell him before announcing the proposal--no, no, _no_ ; it would be easier to tell him about the upcoming wedding and _then_ the delicate nature of the arrangement… Though, perhaps it would be _safest_ to wait until the vows were made and sealed… Oh, but why tell him at all?

_“You told your mother we would tell my father the truth,” he had hedged before parting with Peggy that evening, “….must we, my dear? Only I fear weakening the secret by telling so many people.”_

_Peggy had looked up at him without amusement. “He is your father, Billy. And I believe he can keep this secret as well as anyone who knows it.”_

_“But it is such a private matter.”_

_“Do you fear telling him you are in love with a man?” she demanded._

_“That is not it at all,” he insisted. “I would gladly claim you even if you wore trousers and we met at school.”_

_“I do not think you would have fallen in love with me if I wore trousers.”_

_“I believe I would, had we become friends as we have done. Tis your mind that I fell in love with, and that would have happened even at school.”_

_Peggy smiled at the ground but resumed the original thread. “You cannot keep a secret of this magnitude from your father, Billy. He is the only one in our immediate family who does_ not _know the truth. How then do you think he would feel if it is discovered?”_

_William sighed. “You are right, of course. We must tell him.”_

_“With his support, I will never be in danger of discovery.”_

_“Another solid reason for it. You have more than convinced me. My father will know the truth. I shall tell him tonight.”_

_“Should you not wait until morning, so that I may be there to help explain?”_

_“I would rather this be done as soon as possible. I will repeat all that you have ever said to me on the matter. I will help him understand your greatness and allow him the night to think it over. Come morning, his shock will have faded, and he will greet you as his daughter-in-law.”_

Now, as he waited, William couldn’t help but feel like he had lied to his love. At the time, it had been blind hope, a reckless moment of believing what now felt completely impossible. Facing the prospect of literally telling his father about Peggy’s secret, he was starting to realize that wanting something to be true bad enough did not make it so. He wanted his father to fully accept Peggy, but that didn’t mean he would.

He focused on his breathing because deep breaths calmed the fear inside, the anxiety.

He had promised Peggy he would tell his father, and so he would, though the matter of _when_ exactly he would reveal the fact continued to cause him to go back and forth. His resolve to tell had not wavered, no matter his discomfort or doubt. She wanted him to. And that was enough.

><<>><<>><<>>< 

Peggy could not recall falling asleep, for her active fantasy had blended seamlessly into dreams of such potent love and joyfulness that she felt enveloped in warmth long after waking and rising to dress. Mother met her in the kitchen and watched with a blank, hawkish stare as Peggy shaved and applied her beeswax.

The moment she was presentable as a young lady, Mother motioned to a chair. “I will curl your hair. You must look the part from now on if you are truly to be _Mrs. Buxton_.”

Sitting at the kitchen table, Peggy could hardly wait to see her beloved again and ached for his return. Mother’s fingers combed through Peggy’s un-brushed hair, unforgiving of the little snarls, making Peggy wince.

“It never occurred to me that Mr. William would take any interest in one such as you,” Mother continued idly as her fingers roughly twisted Peggy’s hair. “You have no charm. And he has at least 4,000 pounds a year.”

The words did little to penetrate Peggy’s cloud of euphoria. She grinned at the sound of his name ( _WilliamWilliamWilliam_ ; it was now and forevermore branded on her heart) and dimly recognized that it did not matter what this woman had to say, for Peggy need not suffer it any longer. William ( _her_ William) would take her away from this dismal place into a home as bright and warm as heaven itself.

Edward awoke half an hour later, just as Mother put the finishing touches to the elegant hairstyle. Peggy gazed at herself in the mirror, breathless at her own beauty and paralyzed with gratitude for her mother’s aid. The woman said nothing, but gave a soft, crooked smile when their eyes met. It marked the second time that Peggy felt her mother’s affection.

“Get your boots on, Edward,” Mother told her son. Little was said as the small family prepared to depart the house. Peggy could scarcely breathe in anxious happiness. She burned to see her love again but she had never called upon him at his house. She had looked for him to come round to fetch her as he had always done before.

“Are you sure it’s all right to call? We’ve not been invited,” Peggy asked as they loaded into the trap. The hired driver put the horses into motion and Mother fussed with the skirt of her best lace. Peggy wore the best dress that William had yet to see on her; she wished to appear a new girl in his eyes, reborn of his love.

“We may call when we wish,” Mother said with her chin in the air, “We need no invitations.”

“Mother!”

“Of course, he’s your fiancé. Now our families are one,” Edward said.

Peggy looked between her mother and brother in an attempt to read this sudden change of attitude toward her prospects. When before she had always felt the pair of them shifting to hide her, now it felt as if she was thrust to the bow of the ship as the figurehead, the savior—the beautiful daughter that would bring connection and wealth to the family with her advantageous marriage.

“We are to be related. Different etiquette applies. We might even visit quite outside the usual hours and still be met with open arms. Though we ought to take pains to look gracious. When Peggy is mistress, that house will be our home. I should think we are getting the silver from the side board. They certainly have a deal of it. Hallmarks on everything. Even the salts and peppers. Peggy will forget what pewter is.”

A pit twisted in her stomach. She did not care to bear such responsibility, nor did she care to have her love for William defined in such cool, monetary means. Their bond was higher than such material things and it would not do for William (or his father) to suspect that his money was all that Peggy cared for.

Peggy turned her face into the cool brush of morning air and closed her eyes.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

William sat at the breakfast table, tired from pacing the house a hundred times over. He had come upon the day’s paper delivered to the house at sunrise and sat now to distract himself for a moment. His neck was stiff from having slept those few short hours on the settee, but a nervous energy filled his fingertips with tingles and he found himself sighing every few minutes as his heart pulled again for that beautiful girl waiting for him at that gloomy little cottage.

Father’s footsteps on the stairs sent a thrill through William, who sighed again in quick succession of his last breath of joy, this one a hardier breath of steel. His spine straightened and his sleep deprived mind reached for the neatly constructed little speech he had prepared in the smallest hours of his long wait.

Father entered the dining room with his eyes on the food. William stood, “Father, I sat up waiting for you last night. There is something I must say.”

“I didn’t get home until after 2:00. Captain Brown took me to dine with Sir Charles Maulver. He had a seat in parliament before the Whigs got in.”

“But father…”

“And was full of advice as to how you might proceed,” Mr. Buxton turned with a firm stare at William, who breathed calmly through his nose. His silence was seen to Mr. Buxton as an opportunity to make clear his point once and for all. William clenched his teeth and in deference to his beloved’s advice on how to lead his father to understand his position on the matter, he elected to listen first and speak his mind after.

“I’m an old dog. New tricks grind my bones, send me slinking to my basket,” Father said, seating himself at the table. “I didn’t see the value of the railway. But Sir Charles says many men in power have exploited its development.”

“My passion is for engineering, Father,” William said as civilly as he could manage when this was at least the fiftieth time he had said the thing directly to this man’s face. “I have no interest in politics.”

“And that is your error. You’re a gentleman, just like Sir Charles. If you play your cards correctly, you may yet end up a baronet.”

A weight filled his stomach heavy enough to nearly send poor William to his knees. So that was his father’s intention in this scheme. _Social climbing_ …Was not deliverance from working his own fields to leading his community in wealth enough for this man? William understood that his father had been graced with exceeding fortune in his life, and now saw that the salt mine had left in the man an impression that every generation should rise in leaps and bounds from the last until the whole of the world lay at the family’s feet.

Before William could frame a single response to this ridiculous stratagem, the gentlemen were interrupted. A maid entered the dining room, announcing, “Miss Bell, Mrs. Bell, and Mr. Bell, sir.”

“Oh,” Father groaned without restraint and stood. William whirled.

Edward was the first in the room. “Sir,” the pompous little man said, “we have cause to shake each other’s hands, it seems.”

“The developments please you?” Father asked happily, speaking of the coming railway. Here stood a chance for William to intervene and correct the man’s misunderstanding that nothing of greater significance had occurred yesterday, but all cognitive function had fled the young man at the sight of his beloved Peggy. Her resplendence robbed him of even breath.

“I surmised what would happen from the off,” Edward said superiorly, having taken the older gentleman’s words to be about the impending marriage between the families. Had he but stopped to consider that Mr. Buxton could not have heard Peggy’s secret and held such a smile on his face, then the misunderstanding could have been avoided. As it happened, Edward Bell and his mother preferred to believe that the wealthy gentleman embraced Peggy with arms as open as William’s, for the next words out of Mr. Buxton hardly contradicted the naive hope,

“Yes, the pace has been rapid. That is the modern way.”

The first to suspect fault in the conversation was Peggy, whose sharp mind picked up on the proof that William had elected to keep her secret after all. Her sharper gaze alerted William belatedly of his father’s folly, too late to stop it as the man joked, “Though they have already faced me with a shocking lot of paperwork.”

To such a statement, Edward had nothing to say, nor indeed did either of the ladies, whose smiles faltered slightly in confusion, for the two parties were speaking of two different events and Peggy understood plainly that her secret was not the only thing William had failed to mention.

Before Father could detect that his meaning was unclear, his eye landed on Peggy. “My dear, Peggy! You have a hint of the high day about your trimmings.” The girl preened prettily and William had the urge to put his arms around her but not the nerve to do so in front of his unsuspecting father, who carried on with merry amusement, “You must be destined for somewhere very pleasant. But I will not quiz you on it, lest I make you blush.”

Edward ignored the aside to his sister in favor of forwarding his own success and attempted to turn the joke to his advantage, reminding the gentleman,

“You should employ an agent, sir. I advised you of that once before.”

“You were correct. I have lawyers in Manchester, but they’re out to confound me. If you will deal with them for me, we shall see how we both fare.”

Edward’s chest swelled with pride, for he could do nothing nobler than ensuring his sister’s happiness (and his family’s connections) by sealing the marriage in iron clad law. “Sir, I shall give you my best.”

“What say you to that, Mrs. Bell?” Mr. Buxton asked amiably. Mrs. Bell came forward a step in her eagerness to convey the depth of her gratitude, her voice shook with ravenous joy,

“I bless the day Miss Matty arranged for us to meet. We must make her guest of honor at the wedding!”

William closed his eyes. Mr. Buxton’s smile dropped by degrees and he blinked as certain facts connected in his head. “I’ve been told nothing of a wedding,” he stated coldly.

Peggy looked sharply at William, who lifted his eyebrows contritely.

“William what is this?” Mr. Buxton demanded loudly. All three Bells retreated closer to the door. William put iron in his spine. “I was attempting to tell you—Peggy has agreed to married me.”

“When?”

“Yesterday. At the train station.”

“Forgive this—Mrs. Bell, I must speak to my son in private,” Mr. Buxton’s dismissal was firm and absolute, his grip on William’s elbow twice as much as he forcibly led his son into the parlor.

William cast one desperate look back at Peggy with the words, “One moment, darling,” before he went willingly with his father.

Nothing was said at first—Mr. Buxton paced and William stood helpless as he listened to the Bell family hastily depart in stunned shame. His stomach boiled with his own embarrassment and he resolved to make his speech and chase after Peggy before she had gone too far.

“How could you, William?” his father demanded suddenly.

“But you like Peggy. She has often been our guest!”

“Oh, she’s good for a cup of tea in Cranford,” Mr. Buxton sneered. William’s face fell in outrage. “But you need a cultivated wife. You have money and now connections through the railway. You should befriend the nobility and dine in houses of high standing. That is how England is governed.”

“I have no desire to involve myself in government,” William stated with white hot resolve, “Which frees me to marry where my _heart_ leads!”

With a desperately lost appeal to the heavens, his father asked, “Have you never thought of Erminia?”

“Erminia?” William repeated his sister’s name, recalling that Peggy had even held such a thought, and he questioned why the world seemed set on such an incestuous match.

“She is a most superior girl. I have long cherished hope…”

“Father—“ he began to correct this gross assumption but was interrupted by the lady herself. Erminia entered the room dressed and indignant,

“It seems to me, Uncle, that you took as many liberties in planning my future as you have with that of your son.”

“You do not want to marry me, do you Erminia?” William asked for the sake of asking, for her refusal would settle this matter far more quickly than any argument.

“No, I do not,” she promised. “I was orphaned young and sent to school in Brussels. I think that I have been unfortunate enough.”

“Oh,” Father groaned.

“I fancy you schemed for my fortune, just as you did for my person,” she surmised deftly, “But I shall spend my money and my youth as my parents hoped, in pursuit of my _own contentment_.”

“Meanwhile, William means to do the same and cares not what grief he causes.”

Rage seized him and William all but spoke through his teeth, “I do not exist only to thwart or to please you. I proposed to Peggy Bell because I love her! You loved where you wished and for that reason and no other! If my mother were here, she would give us her blessing!”

His voice had risen, despite his best efforts, and Mr. Buxton stormed out. Erminia looked, wide eyed, at William. “You _proposed_ to Peggy?”

In place of an answer, William brushed past her out of the room, and then the house, shouting at the distant figure of the retreating trap. “PEGGY!”

Erminia hurried to the window to see for herself as the Bell family disappeared from view. In the lane, the figure of William pulled at his hair, cursing. This was most alarming news; Erminia stood still in serious contemplation until her adopted brother had returned to the room looking as if on the verge of tears.

“What she must think of me now,” he bemoaned. Ermina’s bewilderment piqued into laughter,

“My dear Billy—forgive me, but have you lost your mind? You proposed to _Peggy Bell_?”

“Spare me, Erminia. Have you not been orchestrating just this?”

She blinked, rarely cowed in this way. “I confess I found great amusement in your attention to her, and my heart warms at the thought of her happiness. But marriage? Could you not carry on in the most intimate friendship without breaking the law? I fear only for your safety and that of hers as well!”

“Do not think that I have not considered all of this or that Peggy has not made the same argument against me. We discussed this at great length following my spontaneous declaration yesterday afternoon and we’ve reached the conclusion that as a woman in heart and soul she deserves a loving husband—being what she is, our marriage will of course not be conventional, but our love is of a higher sort. I intend to keep her safe and loved and if Society knows her as a woman, then the proper thing, the _safest_ thing, would be to marry her so that she may stay in my house free of scorn and far from those who do not respect her.”

Erminia’s face softened. “Then you are as good hearted and noble as one could hope to be.”

“But I am also foolish—I was to explain it all to father before her arrival and instead I let him talk about politics. I fear his honest reaction has offended them (rightly so,) and she may never talk to me again.”

“Nonsense. Peggy loves you and we are her only friends. I do not think she will hold your father’s opinion against either of us. She is a sensible girl when it comes to dealing with family.”

William rubbed at his face, nodded wordlessly and wandered out of the room. First he thought to compose a note explaining his folly and begging forgiveness but he crumpled the paper and fetched his jacket and Napoleon’s leash before setting out to speak to her face to face.


	3. Part 2 Chapter 3

Humiliation tasted like bile, sounded like a jackal, looked like a ruined water-color landscape and felt like a knife in her heart. Peggy had said not a word on the way home, nor made sense of a single sound uttered from her ranting family members. Their voices had screeched and moaned like demons in hell against her raw nerves.

William Buxton had changed his mind.

He did not want her, could not bind himself to one who could not give him the marriage he needed. Did not, after all, have the nerve to reveal his affection for one such as her to an outsider—these and a hundred other thoughts blotted out all of existence until the colors ran together and dripped off her cheeks. Then a most distressing thought occurred.

Perhaps he had never been serious. All could have been but a game learned at Cambridge alongside mutilating oranges.

Her hurt and humiliation then blossomed into a sharp rage that threatened to burst out of her skin like a thousand needles. Therefore, the moment the trap was stopped, she dismounted with her boots pointed back the way they had come. Distantly, she heard her name shouted, felt Edward’s hand briefly on her arm before she wrenched free and charged on.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>> 

William had hoped to find her at the stream, but to his joy (and partial alarm) he met her on the lane. She marched for him quickly, her face a hard mask of anger. When she saw him, she stopped, forcing William to approach. He lengthened his stride, calling out to her,

“Peggy, I am so sorry—“

“Are you ashamed of me?” she asked, fiery eyed, made fierce by her pain. William was silenced so forcibly he nearly swallowed his tongue. He had never seen such raw pain and humiliation on a person’s face, “Did you intend to woo me into sin and then leave once I had nothing left to give?”

“No!” he choked, “Never! I simply ran out of _time_ to tell him. He did not arrive home until early this morning and he insisted on discussing my future in politics.”

“Could you not have asserted that you had important news for him?”

“I was attempting to do as _you_ advise and let him have his say before giving him mine! I did not want to start yet another shouting match. I was attempting civility. Isn’t that what YOU wanted?”

“How dare you shout at me?” she whacked her fists on his chest, “How dare you blame this on me!”

“I am not placing _blame,_ Peggy,” he said through his teeth, deliberately not shouting. He closed his hands on her elbows, stilling her. “I am merely trying to tell you that your voice is inside my head now, urging me to be the better man and that was all I was trying to do. I did not anticipate your arrival.”

Roses appeared on her face and she looked away. “My mother and brother were enthusiastic about our families becoming one. I did not think we should arrive unannounced, but—“

“Tis no matter, my darling Peggy. I ached to see you as soon as possible and only wish I had done my part in preparing my father for the news in time. It burns me up that he reacted so in front of you, as if you are not good enough, when you are the only one for me.”

“….He is angry?”

“He will come around. It was shock, mostly, I believe. And he dreamed of my becoming a baronet. But he will open his eyes in time. He will know that my place is with you and yours with me and we will go wherever our love takes us.” William kissed her knuckles and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow with a smile. “We will _help_ him to see.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

In the midst of her inner tempest, Peggy had come upon her target and lost control, only to feel the heat of her anger cooled so quickly by his sincere eyes, apologies and explanations. He did love her, and he would keep her. Peggy felt her love for William replace the rage only to realize that the two emotions were connected like the two sides of a coin.

His soft kiss to her hand set the world back into place, though her heart was still beating away from her, for she had fairly ran this far to see him, and now her knees were weak with relief mixed with all the usual things.

With a boyish smile, he tucked her hand under his arm. “You did not run in the direction of your special place, and now your family will be worried about you. Let me escort you back and deliver my apologies there as well.”

They began to walk and she rested her head on the arm she held.

<<>><<><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

By tea time, William departed Bell Cottage feeling as if the acceptance of his apologies he’d garnered from Mrs. Bell had not been a full one. He returned straight home and wound up in another argument with his father over his decision to marry the Bell girl, this one ending with more shouting and slammed doors and no further revelations about her.

He sat in the garden with his faithful dog at his feet, brooding when Erminia found him.

“I have sent my trunk and written to my friend Maria in Bridgenorth,” she announced, sitting gracefully across from him. “If she will have me, I will go there before I am made as vexed and fractious as everybody else.”

“He _will not_ be my master, Erminia,” William stated firmly. As if leaving school was not evidence enough, becoming engaged was certainly a sign of adulthood and yet Mr. Buxton would treat William as if he simply knew no better.

“If you want his respect you must earn it,” Erminia said unapologetically. “And if you want freedom, you must earn that too.”

The more tempting course of action was to insist he wanted nothing from the man, but he feared Peggy would count Mr. Buxton’s cold dismissal as yet one more reason why they should not wed after all.

“Peggy merits his regard,” William ached to think of losing one while gaining the other. His throat nearly closed and he swallowed loudly, fingers shaking. “I’ve never been so moved by anyone as I am by her.”

“So you must demonstrate her value,” Erminia implored, “Walk away from his money and labor for your own.”

“That is easily said by one with charge of her own purse,” he leveled darkly.

“And if it is not easily done, does that mean it must not be attempted?” she asked coldly.

“I’m sorry,” he said wearily. “I’m not used to being crossed.”

“No you are not. But I am glad that you are tried. Your path has been too smooth and you were on your way to being quite imperious.”

Despite himself, William chuckled.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Erminia stepped up on the tidy little stoop of the cottage and knocked upon the door with her gloved knuckles. Mrs. Bell answered and Erminia gave her most charming smile, “Good afternoon! Is the bride-to-be at home?”

Peggy’s face appeared around the corner almost instantly. “Erminia!”

“Dear pet!” Erminia cried, as Mrs. Bell moved aside to allow Peggy out the door. “I have just heard the news! Mrs. Bell you must allow your daughter to leave her chores for a later time while she takes a walk with me.”

Mrs. Bell hedged, “Peggy’s place is here.”

Ermina let her eyes go cold and she looked passed the old woman to the younger, “Peggy. Will you join me?”

“She can’t,” Mrs. Bell snapped.

“If she wants to, then I jolly well think she will!” Erminia snapped back. “You are no more the master of Peggy Bell than the masculine gender was of Gregory.”

“She’s my friend and I will speak with her,” Peggy insisted, gently, slipping passed her mother, who stood struck by Erminia’s revelation that she, too, knew the secret and yet loved Peggy.

Erminia beamed, taking Peggy’s arm and demanding at once as they set off, “You have been busy!” she expostulated. “I feel as if I have missed so much in so very short a time span.”

“It is sudden,” Peggy admitted with a gush.

“Is it--wise?” Erminia asked. Peggy drew a deep breath and Erminia continued, “I want you to be happy, and William, too, but I worry. Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Not if we are careful. In fact, I will be further from danger than ever once I am a bride. No one will look twice at me as I grow old. Who would doubt me if I have a husband?”

Erminia pursed her lips. “I suppose that has some merit. But what sort of marriage will it be? Consummated? I could not get Billy to speak a word on the matter.”

Peggy blushed darkly. “We are in agreement that sodomy is out of the question. We will carry on living as we have been, but under the same roof.”

Thin eyebrows jumping high on her face, Erminia stopped walking. “Then you mean it as merely a business arrangement? Do you even love my brother?”

“Yes! Of course I do! I love Billy—“ she broke off, choking on the words she could not say loud enough. “I love him with my heart and soul.”

“And yet you will deny him even on his wedding day?”

Peggy looked at the ground, stomach heavy, and mouth dry. “This subject is improper.”

“It is important. You did not see the fight he put up against his father over you. He shouted that he loved you and that he shall follow where his heart leads. He has cast himself off from the family, from his inheritance, from all of it, _for you_ , Peggy Bell, and you had better have more to offer him in return than pleasant conversation.”

Breathless Peggy stared at her friend, ears ringing. “He has what?”

“He has renounced his father’s money and has left this morning to make his own way in the world. I have come with a letter from him to you with the full story inside; he is currently in desperate search for a job and could not deliver the news himself. I was meant to let you read it, but I could not keep the news to myself. Not when I have heard this amazing plan of yours. He expects a loving marriage far different than your idea of one.”

Peggy tore into the letter to read it in haste. Her heart pounded and she felt light headed. “I must write to him immediately. He cannot do this if—“

Erminia listened for more but Peggy read in silence and soon Erminia had to prompt, “If you should change your mind after all?”

“Impossible. I have made up my mind to marry him. Our love is a blessing that I shall cling to whilst I have breath in my body—and he has made me promises you will never understand.”

Looking justly offended by such a remark, Erminia huffed softly to herself but held her tongue. Peggy did not regret her choice of words. As learned and practiced in society as Erminia was, it did not give her full authority on every matter to happen under the sun. She and Billy’s love existed in a realm removed from the lady’s perfect world.

As the pair turned languidly in the lane to start back towards the cottage, the dark haired beauty sighed and spoke business-like. “I do hope you know what you are doing. But I give you my best wishes in this. Now quickly write your reply. I am to deliver it to Billy on my way to Hanbury Halt. My train will leave the following hour.”

“Where are you going?” Peggy asked, alarmed.

“To Bridgenorth to visit a friend. I have been putting off the obligation, but now find that it is perfectly agreeable to be away from my feuding family.”

“I will miss you,” Peggy gasped. Erminia’s face crumpled and she pulled the sweet blonde into her arms, crying,

“I shall not be gone long!”

“I am sorry." Peggy said, pulling away to dry her eyes.  This was not an emotion she was practiced in sharing--it was hardly one that she could name. "I am unused to goodbyes. Especially ones that hurt so.”

A gentle touch from her lace-gloved hand, an understanding smile. “I will write you faithfully, as I must hear of every development from you. Do you swear to keep me so informed?”

“I swear!” Peggy hugged her dearest friend fiercely once more.

<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>< 

Though Erminia insisted he was being too dramatic about the ordeal, William refused to pack anything. But as he saw it, all had been purchased with his father’s money, and it would hardly make a romantic gesture if he packed six trunks of expensive belongings and moved into a hotel. He possessed a lump sum of money that had come to him from his mother which he had not deemed tainted by this ordeal, but he had already come to consider that the wedding money, and so he did not wish to touch it when he was perfectly capable of earning his own living.

At sunrise, he struck out for the railway works outside of Cranford.

The camp grounds thrummed with energy that seeped into his skin and quickened his blood. So many people jostling about with such intense, important work at hand. Many were covered in mud, others were burdened with such heavy stacks of material they could scarcely walk a straight line. He offered help where he could as he sought out Captain Brown’s headquarters.

How exciting was this? After speaking of it for so long, William found it quite surreal to be actually in the process of becoming an engineer. It was so much grittier and hectic than he had ever imagined—utterly amazing. The front lines, as it were. No boring classroom here, no empty silence of an office with naught but a clock ticking away his life.

He inhaled deeply the smell of success, for William honestly believed the hardest part was over. He had made the switch. He was now poor but free to do as his heart wished. Be an engineer. Marry Peggy. Be truly _happy_.

At last William came upon the man in charge and Captain Brown sat him down to discuss the business with a grave attitude. “Engineering is a fierce new animal. It grows and sprawls beyond our grasp.” He intoned seriously, “Not like Eton or Cambridge. I cannot stand before a blackboard and lecture in a gown.”

“I would rather learn through observation, sir…..Please, put me to work. I would gladly set my shoulder to the wheel.” William vowed.

“I can offer you only the rudest apprenticeship, Mr. Buxton. As a supernumerary with my surveying team, you’ll need a keen eye and a thick greatcoat.”

It was less of a position than William had been hoping for, but he had no doubt that he would rise quickly. There remained only one other matter that needed sorting before his new life could begin. “I fear, sir, that I may need board and lodging also.”

Looking slightly perplexed, as if he had believed William would be easily scared away from hard work, Captain Brown commenced to the arrangement of William’s new living quarters. It quickly became evident that it would be cheapest to live in a tent here at the railway works, and as making enough money to marry was of utmost importance, William agreed to share a tent with fellow surveyors.

The men were a rowdy but amusing lot and William began to feel like a boy away at school once again, only with the responsibility and power of an adult. Free to come and go as he pleased in his free time, he left his new humble dwelling just after dinner to see Peggy and share the good news. He had asked in his letter to meet at their special place.

The sun was nearly to bed when William finally made it to the stream. He feared Peggy would not be out so late, but he found her waiting as she had promised she would in the letter brought to him loyally by his sister ( who had remarked for the tenth or eleventh time “I do hope you know what you are doing, Billy-boy.”) His heart lifted on wings as he hurried down the steep embankment to her side, feeling with iron clad certainty that he was doing what was right.

“My dear,” he said breathlessly, kissing her cheek. Her hands were cold from the encroaching chill of the night, but he was no warmer after such a long journey.

“Billy!” she clung to his frozen form and returned his kiss. “I feared you would not make it!”

“I am sorry to be so late, but my hours are not my own. I confess I have hardly considered that aspect of work. I came as soon as I could. You will not be in trouble for staying out of the house after dark?”

“I’m afraid I will be, Billy. My mother does not want me to see you ever again.”

“What?” his brow crumpled with pain. He had not been expecting to lose the favor of her family as well.

“She has gotten word of your disownment and has forbidden it,” Peggy informed him with desperate fear in her voice. William studied her face in the dying light and gripped her elbows as his breath ran away with his heartbeat. “And yet you came…” he said in wonder.

“Of course I have. I will not give you up. I cannot. I love you, Billy.”

He smiled, kissed her cheek again, and twirled her around in his glee. “Oh, Peggy Bell, how I love you in return!”

“But how will we see one another? You shall be working and I watched every minute of the day.”

“We will think of something to stay in touch until I have money enough to take you away from here. Letters. We shall write daily.”

Peggy shook her head. “My mother would never allow the postage.”

“We needn’t use the post. Let us leave our letters at this place. She will not stop you from fetching water, and I will make the journey as often as possible.”

Her smile was bright enough to light the night. She laughed with joy and vowed to write at least once a day. Planning out loud, Peggy promised to construct a letter box out of an old lunch pail, which she would then hid in the gorse bush. There she and William would begin to leave one another letters. William vowed to check it as often as possible.


	4. Part 2 Chapter 4

_My dear Billy,_

_We are the talk of Cranford. I feel as if I have been subjected to the Spanish Inquisition. All must know the romantic details of our love affair. I feared at first that the edited story dulled in comparison to the truth, for it did not show your ultimate kindness and understanding. But the censored version seems to be sweet enough, as does my lack of engagement ring. In fact, I believe that is the most scintillating part. Whenever I am asked whether or not I shall have a ring and I must explain that your mother’s has been denied me and that you must work to afford anything else, the girls positively sigh. Your disownment has made you quite the romantic soldier, Billy-boy._

_I am truly honored that you have cast off your family in order to keep your promise to me. I know you proposed in hopes of protecting me evermore with your fortune, and that you would plan still to do so without money is truly a testament to your good heart. I can think of no better future than to live in your house, wherever it may be, as your life long companion and friend._

_Yours truly,_

_Peggy_

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

“Mother! Mother!” Edward ran into the house shouting in excitement and very quickly relayed the happy news that Mr. Buxton had just offered to fund Edward’s way into the practice of law. Peggy could not deny some happiness for her brother, for this was better than anything he could have hoped for, but she could not ignore the sick feeling that Mr. Buxton was favoring Edward out of sheer spite for her.

For the next few days, Mother could not be happier as she and Edward arranged for his departure. Peggy held her tongue and attempted to feel excitement for his opportunity rather than the absence it afforded. Listening to him blither on about the money he would have, she found it hard to believe she would even miss him.

“Take these glasses. They were your fathers,” Mother insisted as she lifted stemmed cups out of their velvet box. “The cut of the crystal is good.”

Edward held them to the light. “Peggy, fetch a cloth to wrap them in.”

She complied only because she would never again be at his service after today. William would have enough to take her away before Edward had learned enough to be a decent lawyer. She handed him a towel, thoughts miles away on the humble little cottage that she and Billy would one day inhabit.

“Once you had revealed your marriage plans, I did not think I would keep old Buxton’s favor long,” her brother continued, “But instead, he showers me with benevolence. It will cost a pretty pound to put me through my articles.”

“I think it is not so much a mark of his fondness for you, but of his anger with William,” she could not help but snap.

“Yes. Well, that is your fault and your fiancé’s folly.”

She scowled until Mother noted the time and demanded, “Peggy, fetch some water for dinner.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

At the stream, she found that her latest letter had been replaced with one from him. She opened it quickly and read so fast that she had to stop and try again.

_My beloved Peggy,_

_I write you now crouched here on the bridge, for I have run out of time for a trip to my tent and back. I am only thankful that I carry with me paper and ink to keep track of the plethora of tasks set to me. (I wish to exceed expectations and do not want to forget anything.) I use it now to respond to your letter with several questions that cannot wait._

_How do you envision our marriage? What do you mean by calling yourself my companion and friend? Does not having a ring to symbolize our love make you believe it is more of a business arrangement?_

_Forgive me, my dear, if these questions anger you. Only your dry letter has shocked me. It is as if you expect more of a roommate than a husband, a ruse instead of a marriage. Please know I wish for more than that, for you deserve more than that. Your tender female heart was made to be loved and that is what I do and plan to do for the rest of our lives as husband and wife._

_Your ever devoted--_

_Billy_

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

_My dear Billy,_

_As sweet a dream as it may be, we cannot be the ideal husband and wife. I agreed to marry you, to be presented as your wife, for the security that it will provide. Do I love you? Yes, so greatly that in all honesty it frightens me. But to act on that love would be a sin, Billy. When you promised to never ask sodomy of me, I took that to mean you respected the celibate clause of this marriage. Have I been foolish to believe you meant it when you agreed that day to carry on only as we have been, with passionate kisses on special occasions and nothing else?_

_Perhaps I have been. I can see that now. But I must confess, I have no idea what you could be expecting from me, for I recall your sincerity when you vowed against sin. Do try to explain it to me. My curiosity has been piqued._

_Yours,_

_Peggy_

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

_My beloved Peggy,_

_I have not forgotten that we agreed to avoid sin. It is, however, my opinion, that two passionate people can enjoy one another by other means. I shall be blunt for want of time to phrase this eloquently. Hands, my love. Simple touch. It is a proven method that I hope you will consider for our marriage act. It is no different than kisses, which you have already agreed to. And now that I have made both of us blush, let me write of other things._

_Do write to me more of this frightening love you have for me, for it moves me so to read such words. It strengthens my weary body and wakens my sleeping soul to know that Peggy Bell returns my love. Know that from the moment it occurred to me on the train, the sweet light that shines from you warms me to my core and calls to me. Yes. It is a calling, and one that I shall not ignore._

_Your devoted_

_Billy_

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

_My dear Billy,_

_You must understand that my life before you was so grey. When I had my father, and the pair of us rejoiced in the majesty and love of God, I was happy but not joyful. When I lost my father, and I was alone with not but his memory and teachings, I was content but not satisfied. But now that I have you, I am made new. I am happy and joyful. I am content—but not yet satisfied. And nor are you._

_I suppose the marriage does need to be consummated, and for lack of a better method, simple touch shall suffice. I must be willing to compromise if I expect you to do the same. We will discuss this more at a later date, when we might speak face to face, for it unnerves me to write such things on paper where it might be discovered._

_Until then, my love, I shall not be truly satisfied until I have you by my side every day. I miss you terribly, Billy Buxton, and yet I grow prouder of you by the hour. There are plenty in town who speculate that you will tire of this game and cast me off soon. I turn a deaf ear on them and look at your letters every night for comfort. This is but part of the trial to test our love, and we will triumph._

_I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you._

_Peggy_

<<>><<>><<>><<>>

William's reply interrupted Peggy's every thought.

Having been too afraid to venture outside at night on all hallows eve, Peggy had foregone checking the letter box at her usual time. The following morning, she had rushed to retrieve the waiting letter between chores, but had planned to read it later that night, so that she might savor every word. However, as the afternoon dragged on, she lost all patience. She had to know what her William had written for her. Though her mother was calling for her aid with dinner, Peggy went to the light of a window and ripped into the letter.

_My beloved Peggy,_

_I write with ink I begged from the cartographer, and dry my boots by coals I filched from the engine yard. I steal these moments from my work. The first charts are completed but I have so much still to learn. Land can be measured. The love I have for you cannot. It is uncharted country and the map that I must live by. Meanwhile, our wedding day hangs far off like a bright flag suspended in the fog. I’ve fixed my eyes to it, but there are days when its distance seems beyond my calculation. And I miss you more than words can say._

_Your devoted_

_Billy_

“PEGGY!”

She folded the letter, stuffed it into her bodice, and returned to the kitchen. Her mother detected her flushed cheeks and distracted attitude, and though Peggy tried to pretend as if there was nothing on her mind but the usual nonsense, Mrs. Bell pursed her lips and insinuated that any love letters found cluttering the place would be burned.

This prompted Peggy to carry with her the next day to Miss Matty’s every note she’d received from William thus far. As interested as ever in the tales of love, the old woman listened with a soft smile and rapt attention as Peggy showed off the love letters.

“I try so hard to encourage him when I write in reply. If he abandons the struggle, I fear I will be abandoned too.”

“You are the very reason he chose this path,” Miss Matty assured her. They sat together in the lady's parlor, afternoon light warm on the neatly folded letters Peggy held on her lap. There were so few in comparison to the number of days that had passed. William had difficulty traveling to the spring every single day. Often her letters stacked up before he collected them.  She felt more and more of a burden some times, and yet his response was always joyous.

“I know it. That is why I am afraid. And although he writes, we have not met in these four weeks.”

“One day you will cherish every word of these,” the spinster said wisely. “They will be evidence of what you have endured. Take them back and put them in a place of safety.”

“There is no place of safety, Miss Matty. At least not in my home.”

“I shall keep them here in a box to save them from the light and dust until you have security of your own.” Miss Matty said dutifully. Peggy thanked her sincerely, not at all worried that the delicate matters discuss in quite a few of the notes would be read, for her privacy would be wholly respected here.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

William kept his letters stacked together chronologically and folded into a book on engineering. It had been the this little volume that he had curiously plucked off a shelf last year only to have his mind completely bewitched by the concepts. He had secreted it out of the university library and had left campus that week with it in his trunk. Over the many months hence, he had made a habit of jotting notes in the margins so that the engineering lessons combined with his thoughts on it made the whole thing a palimpsest diary of his very soul, a map to Bill Buxton in full. It seemed only right that everything about Peggy Bell be kept in the same important place.

He did not fear anyone discovering the letters in his absence, for the book remained on his person at all times. Its weight in his pocket as he pushed the calculating wheel over kilometers of uneven, muddy ground reminded him of the passion this course in life had to offer. He had to allow that to be incandescently happy on some days would require dreadfully awful days occasionally. Days like this one.

His entire body ached. His thighs burned, his calves felt split in half. He could not lift his arms from weariness, and his back felt stiff from sleeping on the thin cots in the tent. But it was this cot he fell onto in deepest gratitude at the end of every long work day. Like many others, he had not even the strength to drag himself to the neighboring lake for a bath. He had stopped at a rain barrel and scrubbed his hands and face for dinner and left it at that. Now, with soup and bread warm in his belly, he needed sleep but wanted something else.

Around him, his tent mates were groaning with equal weariness, but were also laughing and trading filthy jokes while mercilessly teasing one another. They seemed not to have a care in the world. William wished he could join them, but his heart yearned for Peggy’s crooked smile and the sound of her voice.

From his greatcoat’s inside breast pocket, he retrieved the book and took out her letters. These were the closet to her he could be tonight. He studied her neat penmanship, picking out the individual letters that bore her personality. The crooked slash of her fs and ts were so like her smile that he counted them each and promised himself that when next he saw Peggy he would give her as many kisses. He would give her a kiss for every smile every day for the rest of their life.

Oh but these little pages were not enough.

His heart throbbed in his chest. The literal ache stole his breath and he turned his back on the rest of the tent least they see his agony and remark upon it. He sank his face into the cold pillow and forced his breath to pull evenly into his body as if nothing was wrong, when nothing felt right. He felt terribly injured. Ripped in half and frayed. Unbalanced, crippled. Lonely.

Laughter erupted around him at some small joke from somebody, and a few lines of a merry drinking song picked up momentarily before it was washed out by yet another joke. William did not smile. He looked at Peggy’s letters, at the words copied into each one of them. _I miss you._

Did she miss him this greatly? He wondered. Then with a little plummet in his stomach, he wondered did she miss him more? Her soft feminine heart had to be shredding itself over this separation that had a fortified man such as he curled in his bunk in near tears.

He retrieved pen and paper forthwith, and began putting his thoughts into words on the page that she might read for comfort. He promised her that this pain would not last. That one day, as soon as humanly possible, he would make her his bride and they would never be parted ever again. He confessed his own torment at being kept from her by the very labor that his love demanded of him, and his faith that one day it would all be given back to them by the grace of God in sheer bliss upon their union.

He stopped there for the night, unable to move his mind past such a pleasant thought. The sheer bliss upon their union… the sacred wedding night. His mind lingered there out of well laid habit, until his attention was got by a fellow in the bunk beside him, who asked if he needed the light.

He grunted a quick apology and put the lantern out, then in the dark, put the letters and book away neatly before pulling the covers close for sleep. Or feigned sleep. His mind turned to the letter that needed finishing, all the words of love he could possibly arrange upon it in the morning in his few minutes of free time before delivering it to the letter box.

There, his fantasy took an unusual turn for the immediate present rather than the hazy future. He envisioned carrying the completed love letter to their private place only to see her there already checking for his response. Her face would ignite at the sight of him, as his heart would nearly burst at the sight of her. He would probably trip going down that blasted incline so quickly, stumble but run on until she was in his arms warm and real and shaking with happiness.

 _Billy Billy Billy_ she would keep saying as she held onto him, as he kissed her one hundred and twenty nine times on her lips and cheeks and ears and neck. All that had been frayed and unbalanced and crippled would be corrected, the pang of loneliness would be burned away by the fire in her eyes as he touched her, as she touched him.

 _Don’t stop_ , she’d whisper to him. Their tongues would touch and their breaths would become one. They would stumble, but yes they had a seat on the little parapet next to the gorse. She would perch there with her hips forward against his. She would feel his proud manhood straining for her—he would feel hers.

A small sweat broke out across William’s hairline and he flinched but sank deeper into his bunk, into his fantasy. Yes….he _would_ feel Peggy’s desire for him…and that would be so humbling. It would be proof of her love for him, stated in the plainest and oldest language. His heart quickened at the thought of it. There was no end to her wonders…

And there was no end to his fantasy. William could not keep his fevered mind from the sinful. The Peggy in his head, pressed between him and that stone edifice, then pulled up her skirts, and ripped open his trousers, and (this part lacked vivid detail and took the shape of past fantasies) their flesh met. Hot and hard and wet, he thrust against her ( _in her_ ) until she spasmed around him, whimpering, _Billy Billy Billy_ ….


	5. Part 2 Chapter 5

After that most satisfying dream, William woke with the energy to turn plans into action. It would not do to become lazy at menial work, not when his hopes were to rise higher in the business. He left the tent before any of his tent-mates woke and decided to bring his superior a cup of coffee.

William entered the tent with the coffee and found the captain still dressing. “Good morning, sir.”

“You’re even more than punctual today,” Captain Brown grumbled, fumbling with his cravat in frustration. “I confess I am relieved to see you.” He looked pleadingly at William for help with the garment.

William grinned and set aside the cups. “To what occasion do you owe this fine dress and agitation?”

“I am getting married,” the captain informed, slightly pale despite the glow in his eyes. William huffed with surprise and happiness. “What wonderful news! Do I know the fortunate lady?”

“You do. I have asked for Lady Glenmire’s hand.”

“My! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, William. I am at present looking for a witness. Might you fill that role for your boss?”

“I will fill that role most gladly sir, and out of friendship as well, if I may call it that.”

“You may.”

Exempted from the day’s work, William stood in a church before a minister and God and watched two aged people claim a second lease on life, adopting about their lined faces the essence of young folk again as they made their vows and were sealed into a covenant of marriage.

William happily signed the papers, thoughts ahead on his wedding day, when he would get to stand next to Peggy and make similar vows, hold her hand tightly through the part where the minister would ask if there is any just cause the two should not be wed. It would be less stressful if done this way, with not but one witness. Erminia would hold her tongue, and then Peggy Bell would be his bride forevermore.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

That evening, William dispatched himself from the barking and whooping horde of fellow workers and stepped through the gate in front of the Jenkins house. Privately he had to confess that the hardest part of his new life was navigating the class break. He foresaw how dearly he would pay tomorrow at the railroad works now that his new friends had seen him dressed up and attending a party with the bosses.

Regardless, he had been asked by the newly-weds to attend the celebrations and could not decline. Besides that, he simply wished to see some old friends again. He knocked upon Miss Matty’s door.

It cracked open, and he saw but a sliver of her aged face.

“Miss Matty?”

“Oh William!” The door flew wide, entreating him to enter quickly. He did so, sensing her fear of the rowdy strangers lingering outside in the street. Inside her home, he found Ms. Forrester and Ms. Thompson and bowed in formal greeting. “The bride and groom have dispatched me to escort you to their home.”

Their relief and gratitude eased William profoundly, for a part of him had feared that they would look down upon him now that he was penniless. He felt instantly foolish for even considering it a possibility with these kind women. He escorted them out into the dark evening.

“Oh, look! It is Mrs. Jamieson’s sedan,” Miss Matty proclaimed at the gate. She turned to William to beg, “Could you assist her, William?”

Obliged to help, he stepped over and lowered the window—but it was not old lady Jamieson inside. Peggy Bell smiled up at him from her secret getaway vehicle. He smiled hugely and glanced back at Miss Matty and the others, who each had a wicked smile on their faces. He laughed and leaned inside the sedan. “Oh, darling! I am so thrilled to see you!”

“Let us get to the party. We mustn’t let the others be late on our account.” Peggy said in her most sensible voice. William could only nod, heart lodged in his throat. He had not anticipated spending time with his beloved tonight. His entire body sang with elation at the thought.

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

“My mother pines for my brother now that he works in Manchester. It was Miss Matty who secured my invitation. Edward sometimes comes home on Saturday. I think she knew my mother would not come with me.” Peggy nibbled a bite of cake nervously. William had said very little since laying eyes upon her so unexpectedly. He spoke now lowly,

“I had feared that our trials might thin your cheeks or fade you. But your eyes shine brighter than they ever did before.”

“It is all the walking to our letter box. And so many candles are lit tonight,” she added, with a glance around the lavishly decorated room. The wedding celebration was beautiful, so simple but filled with the warmth of light and friends. No one would know that this marriage was a shotgun affair by the company had.

Peggy’s heart ached for the day when these very people would gather together to celebrate her and William’s union. It could not come fast enough, and yet it was so far away. She reached for more cake to distract herself from the thoughts. William’s fingers brushed hers and they both jumped as if burned by a hot iron. A second attempt for the cake yielded the same.

William looked down, chest moving with labored breath for a moment. “Is it harder than you thought?”

Something wrung deep inside of Peggy and she fought a frown. “I think perhaps it is harder than _you_ thought.”

“I did not know what work was,” he admitted with fervor. He took up the last bit of cake and began to roll it in his fingers like a boy. “Now I do. And I know what it is to want a thing that you must work for.”

He met Peggy’s eye, and she dared to hold his heated gaze, for she wished to read in it his sincerity. His attempt to abandon the cake on the plate left the cake deposited in the floor. With an embarrassed laugh, he stooped to retrieve it, and then—slowly—he reached out to touch her hip. Peggy’s body swelled before she realized that the sugary treat had hit her skirt and left a mark, one that he was attempting to erase. She stood perfectly still, heart racing, fears stacking high as a thousand things filled her head from the way he was looking up at her.

His hand was mere inches from her bandaged, thickening, flesh and yet he did not wince.

After lingering for as long as he could get away with, William lifted himself back to his full height and dumped the cake back onto the plate.

“Your poor hand!” she exclaimed when a close scrutiny revealed an ugly wound on his thumb.

“It is only a blister from my calculating wheel,” he said with some evident pride. He would never have had a blister in his life. Peggy grinned and presented her own hand where a pink and twisted blister still lived. “I have its twin. I did it with the smoothing iron.”

William took her hand in both of his to examine the injury closely with a pout of empathy. “See?” she said past her dancing heart, “We are equals at last.”

“We have always been equals,” he returned. “Love makes people so.”

They smiled at one another for a moment, before Peggy had worked up enough nerve to voice the thing in her mind. “Now I have an indelicate question to ask you,” she said with a grin.

William’s eyebrows rose with interest and his mouth stretched in a smile. “I must hear this indelicate thing immediately.”

Peggy glanced around, saw that there were too many within possible earshot, and so motioned him through the door at her back.

<<>><<>><<>> 

William held his breath as they plunged into the darkened room as if they plunged into dark waters. He had no idea what she could be on about, for this behavior was quite unlike her. He feared they would be missed from the party, but not as much as he was curious to hear her.

He felt Peggy move close and she whispered her question,

“Are you… _hardened_ by your love for me?”

William blinked and then blushed. “My dear…are you inquiring of my…?”

In the dimmest light from the stars outside the uncovered window, he began to see the shapes of things. Peggy’s face was quite close, and she looked mildly ashamed but mostly curious. “Are you?”

He laughed, bashful. Considering the fantasy he’d found comfort in the night before, he could hardly deny that he wanted her. However, something about the reality of it gave him pause. His fantasies still included—for want of delicacy—being _inside_ her. Dare he promise to find satisfaction, _for the rest of his life_ , even without sodomy?

In the space of his pause, she smacked her lips and stepped away with indignation. “I was afraid of this,” she was visibly shaking, “Billy I love you, but I cannot condemn you to a passionless marriage.”

“I have not denied passion,” he said, voice rough. Peggy stopped talking abruptly. He moved closer. “I love you more than words can say, only without knowing for certain what shape our physical love will take, I….” he trailed off, and shrugged miserably.

She swallowed and nodded, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes. “Then we have no choice.”

Before William could question her, she had lifted her skirt to her hips, revealing her undergarments. He balked. She spoke fast, taking his wrist. “We will have a test now, and see once and for all if this is something you will work yourself to the bone to have. I love you, but please do not imprison yourself for my sake. If you do not like this, then you are free of all promises and can return to your house.”

He spoke her name, but no sound escaped his lips as she pulled him closer and put his hand on her flesh. She had pushed away all garments and binding bandages and her skin was bare under his palm. This was no dream. But how could it be happening? Oh, this was nothing like his fantasies, with a hundred small details he had never considered, with actual people in the very next room. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as he surrendered to it all, consequences be damned.

She was warm in his hand, and a comforting size. He brushed his fingers along the length and into the hair, exploring. He found nothing he did not already know anatomically, but he felt carefully, mentally mapping. So this was it…He smiled at her.

Peggy had her eyes squeezed shut, her face turned away, but William could see her moue of disgust. He recalled how she claimed to despise having anything to do with this part of her body. All at once, he realized that she was not like him and did not pass sleepless hours like other men.

He closed his fist around her cock and as he pulled, her distaste melted off her face, her eyes fluttered with the pleasure he gave. He did it again and she drew breath. “Billy…”

His blood spiked, and his voice was low, “Would you like me to continue?”

She breathed in and out before nodding shallowly. William swept her up in his arms, turning her to hold her from behind so that he may operate efficiently, much as one would tie a bowtie for another. Though her flesh was hard and hot in his fist, her body was soft and plaint in his arms, her hair smelled of roses and the smooth skin of her face and neck drew his lips.

She moaned his name again and his heart swelled. He felt he could burst with love for this beautiful, amazing person in his arms. Life opened up around him. Oh what wonders they would discover together. His mind raced away from him with it, but a sound from the party pushed him back into his body. Fear that they would be overheard or missed shot through him, and so he worked more quickly. She tensed, trembled. He felt her throb in his fist. She stifled gasps and louder noises with both hands and he clung to her. He kissed every inch of her skin that his lips could meet, hungry and finding that she tasted like a honeycomb.

“Peggy,” he gasped into her shoulder when she pushed backwards against him in a way to bring sweet pressure to his groin. He swept a thumb over her slit and she made such a deliciously wicked noise that he did it again and again. It made her hips arch away from him, thrusting into his fist. She went rigid and shook in his arms as wetness spread over his hand.

William stopped mid stroke, amazed to realize that it was the end, amazed to have experienced the gush as one removed from the erratic frenzy of it, to have brought about that blissful bleed without it being his own. He felt powerful and yet deprived at the same time. (His body throbbed and burned in his clothes. If only they had more time. Oh the things, all the naughty wonderful things they could do…)

“Oh, dear…” she said, breathlessly at last. She moved carefully away from him. William stayed her and pulled a kerchief from his pocket to clean them up. “How embarrassing!”

“Not at all,” he said hoarsely, gulping. He panted as if he had ran over a great distance. She took over his clumsy attempts to dry her. He laughed, winded. “I have never been so moved in my life--your complete surrender to me, the sounds you gave.”

“No, please--do not speak of it,” she begged lightly, face aflame as she corrected her dress. William caressed her warm cheekbones as she faced him once again.

“But that is natural; it is nothing to be ashamed of. And I loved it so.”

Their foreheads rested together as William floated backwards over the best minutes of his life; over the beginning of his eternity. Another positively giddy laugh sounded in his chest. “What a successful test! I do not know how I can stand being apart from you now. Let us run away and wed tonight and be like this always!”

She grinned crookedly as if it was a joke, and, gulping, William allowed it to be, for that was all it could be. Captain Brown and his wife had narrowly escaped scorn only because this was a second marriage for each of them. But Peggy, a young maiden, deserved a proper wedding and when she said as much, voicing the very thought in his head as he thought it, a smile split his face, and his eyes shone as he put their foreheads back together, and caressed her little ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, Billy Buxton.”

He furrowed his brow as he pulled something from the back of his front teeth. “What in heaven…”

Peggy knew what it was without having to look too closely. “That is beeswax. You’ve scrape it off me.” She rubbed at her face, hastily attempting to correct her ruined complexion.

“I thought you tasted good,” he said lowly as they stepped back into the light. He scrutinized her face closely, even brushing softly at her jaw with a thumb. “You are perfect. Like a little wax doll.”

They fell silent, foreheads together. William felt as though he could never stop smiling. What doubts he had in the terms of their physical marriage were gone. He knew in his heart he would never tire of holding her as he had, feeling her burst with her love for him. His own need had yet to wane but he chose to ignore it. This was, after all, a necessary test, and not a true consummation.

_God, if this was a sin, I do not know if I can find it in me to repent. I love her so._

Her smile trembled with the onset of the tears that welled in her eyes, “Oh, Billy…” she whispered.

Alarmed he held her tighter, “You are not regretting it are you?”

“No!” she insisted, and even in the near dark he could see the fire in her eyes. It met with his own resolve. “My heart has been married to you for so long now. Surely God knows that, and if He does not, then I will tell Him when I meet Him.”

William huffed and joined her light laughter, “What a beautifully bold statement! To tell God his own business. I thought I could not love you more.”

“It feels impossible, doesn’t it? To love this much? I believed myself overflowing with love for you but tonight you have made me feel … Billy, I did not know I could feel like that.”

“Surely you have done just that yourself?”

He felt her blush under his hands, “Never.”

“ _Never_?” William echoed and he held her close, musing, “Yes, I recall you said you ignore it as much as you can. I just never considered it would mean never even finding _pleasure_ …”

“You…” her voice was small, bashful, “You do that often?”

William snorted with a blush, “Dearest, I cannot lie. I do that as frequently as I can.” She giggled, hiding her face in his shoulder. He kissed her hair, “When I lived in luxury it was rather more than can be seemly. Now that I share a tent with others, I am more restrained.”

She gasped and pulled away, “Another way you suffer for me,” she whispered.

“You are worth it, my love. Oh, Peggy Bell, if you did not believe it before, you must do so now. I will do _anything_ for you. Anything at all!”

She looked into his eyes for a moment, tears sliding freely down her cheeks. He checked them with his thumb as they reached her chin. She did the same for his own tears. “Well, then,” she whispered. That was all she said. William did not need more. He knew what she asked of him: she wanted his heart and she had it. Utterly.

The rest of the evening slid past in a blur, for William did not see or hear much of anything but what Peggy Bell did. As they sat together and listened to Captain Brown read Dickens, William could not take his eyes from her enraptured face. As Mrs. Forrester sang to Mrs. Brown’s piano accompaniment, Peggy swayed gently and took William’s hand.

It was simply the best night of their lives.


	6. Part 2 Chapter 6

When Peggy broke the seal of the next letter, she giggled at the address.

_My Dearest, Most Beloved, My Precious, Darling, Peggy,_

_To part from you last night was the most difficult thing I have ever experienced in my life. Losing my mother to painful disease, disownment and working sun up to sun down in the bitter cold both included. I fell asleep repeating your words to myself, the ones you whispered when you said that our hearts have long been married. I find such comfort in that, you cannot know._

_You are bliss in my arms, Peggy Bell. I find this morning that I must frequently remind myself that Heaven is not on this sinful Earth. And if that is true, what an unfathomable glory God’s kingdom must be, for you, a mortal sinner as wicked as myself, feel very much like Heaven to me._

_Speaking of the wicked, be sure to lock yourself in private for the rest of this letter. I have decided that if we are wed in heart, then we may act wed in our minds. I pray this does not lower your opinion of me, but having had you I cannot resist. I propose a treatment for our suffering._

_Dearest, I cannot get it out of my head that you have not worked out what pleases you yet, but I will gladly offer what I know to aid you in this, our torturous separation. When you lie down to bed tonight…_

Peggy’s breath caught as her eye scanned the rest of the instructions. Her face darkened and she crumpled the paper in haste as if the words could leap from the paper and make themselves known to her mother and brother. With a short moment to collect herself, she dared to smooth out the slip of paper and read it again and again. Once memorized, she carefully tore away the offending lower half of the paper and destroyed it before returning to the house. Mother commented on her burning cheeks but thought nothing but of the exercise gained in fetching the pail of water.

For the rest of the evening, Peggy debated silently to herself on the matter of ignoring the instructions or performing them. When she had admitted in her last letter to him that she was embarrassed at having never tested herself in that regard, she had not been seeking advice on further exploration, yet her beloved’s eager response opened to consideration the possibility. She could not deny that she yearned to be alone with him again in his arms as the world caught on fire…and if they could not be together in person, then they could be together in dreams.

By nightfall, she climbed into her bed in not but a shirt and drew the covers close with shaky fingers. It had been years since she had slept outside the lower bandage and she felt entirely naked. Her heart pounded in her narrow chest, and she closed her eyes to see William’s smile and imagine his hands on her body.

When she first touched it, she felt the familiar inward curl of disgust at the unseemly protrusion, and for a moment the entire experiment was in danger of failure. But William’s instructions had been thoughtfully detailed in these first crucial steps, and so Peggy breathed deeply and let her mind race away from herself. She found refuge in the past, in that heated moment of bewildering passion that had engulfed her in the darkened room with William’s strong arms around her, his large, warm hand moving on her in steady, slow pulls.

After the finish, her instructions were to lie still and breathe deeply the satisfaction in her bones. She strove to keep her mind from the mess and closed her eyes, but no matter how loose she felt in her limbs, she could not rest long. She cleaned herself with a crooked smile as she composed a letter to him in her head.

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

_Billy Buxton,_

_You cannot expect that I will allow you to get away, un-scolded, with your wicked letter of improprieties written to me, an unwed girl of but nineteen. If you recall we have vowed to strive for a higher love. What sin our union will bring must be counterbalanced by_

_Dearest Billy, you have ruined me for I cannot even finish my reprimand. I cannot find reproach within my soul, which burns ever brighter for you. I love you, with all of my heart and with all of my soul. And with all of my body. (Your instructions proved quite effective. It is lucky I alone in this house manage the sheets. There was a substantial mess by the third time.)_

_Yours,_

_Peggy Bell_

 

 

Life in the railroad works was simple enough, filled with interesting friends and hard work, but it was Peggy Bell’s letters that got him through it all. She fortified his spirit as she fortified his longing for her. Everything he did he did for her, and with this in mind, he worked harder and longer than anyone else until he was at last promoted.

He wrote to Peggy his triumph. He was no longer a _junior_ supernumerary, but now a _senior_ one. The pay was increased and the work as well. But he focused on the positive thing. With more money, he could marry Peggy Bell faster (for he saved every single penny) and more work would simply make the days shorter, bringing him all the more faster back to her.

William walked to the stream whenever he could spare the time, which was not quite as often as he would like. He sometimes found two letters waiting for him, as he did now. He carried them back to his warm tent, where he blocked out his tent-mate’s conversation and read her words.

She had tried his instructions! Her attempt at a reprimand only increased his love for her, for he had no right to suspect any less of a response from her. But her hint that his words brought her to a finish _three_ times in one night made him blush, and he folded the paper to hide it in the book, where no one would happen upon it by accident. He would not destroy it, for it was too delicious to read, and the nights here were so cold and long.

The second letter was vastly different.

She confessed in the first line to being dreadfully depressed. What followed was a page length of her miseries. Her mother and her visiting brother were being horrible, taking Mr. Buxton’s rejection of her as a right to scorn her themselves. She concluded with the postulation that they would never marry after all.

He crumpled this letter in his fist and got back into his boots. His tent mate asked where he was going, and William’s short answer, “to see my fiancé,” awarded him some cat calls that made him blush.

He marched past the stream, and approached the sleeping cottage in stealth. He knew which window belonged to her for it had been briefly the plan to trade letters there instead. She slept on the bottom floor, in a small room in the back. William crept around the cottage and tapped on the glass gently.

He saw her movement inside as she wrapped herself up and opened the window without lighting a candle.

“What are you doing here?” she shrilled under her breath. “You will be caught!”

He held up the letter. “You seem so distraught in your letter, I had to see you. Are you alright? Peggy, please, are you taking care of yourself? Are you eating? You mustn’t--“

She broke in, “Of course I am eating.”

“All that my mind has been dwelling on is that you once said you nearly starved yourself because you were so unhappy before and that it was only your father who saved you. Yet he is not here, nor can I be, and I thought--“

“This is not the same as that,” she whispered, “Before, I hated myself and felt I did not belong anywhere and so would be better off in the ground. But now I am secure with myself. What’s more, I am beginning to see myself as you see me, and I know that the place I belong is with you.”

William, smiling, sighed with relief, laughing at himself, “That is precisely what I have come to tell you… but your letter is so filled with woe.”

“I am sorry I did not strive more to focus on the good, but it was a most dreary day and I hadn’t the strength to fight the tide of loneliness.” Her voice wavered, “I am glad you have come. It is so good to see you!”

He took her hands and found them cold, “My dear, your hands are like ice!”

This was not surprising, considering the season, and the sun had been down for many hours. He took her fingers in his and scrubbed them for warmth as she said, “Without you near life is so very cold.”

“One day, my love, one day we will be married, and I can take you from here.”

“Oh, Billy…” she suddenly sobbed quietly, “That day could be years from now.”

He stroked her loose hair soothingly, “We have waited this long. What is a year or two against the rest of our lives together? Hm?” He kissed her as she wept, “We must be patient, and strong, and I love you. I love you, Peggy Bell. Please do not cry; I cannot bear it.”

With effort, she pulled herself together and dried her eyes. He continued to stroke her hair. She broke the silence, tugging at his coat, “You should not be out in this freezing night. You will catch your death and then where will we be?”

“I am well,” he shivered even as he lied, “I would bear this and much worse just to see my darling doll of wax.”

She blushed and lingered for just a moment on the wicked memory and then, “You must take care as diligently as you would have me do. You belong to me as much as I to you.”

Chuckling, he repeated himself, “I am well. You make me whole and hale.”

“That’s a pretty thing to say, but catch your death, Billy Buxton, and I shall kill you myself!”

Suppressing laughter, he kissed her soundly, taking her breath as he pulled away with a pointed drag of his thumb on her chin. A moment later, she gasped and pulled away covering the stubble with a hand, “I am sorry--I--“

“Tis no matter,” he drew her back, peeled away her hand to feel her beard again, “It is rather intriguing…” he ran the backs of his fingers over it, leaned in and kissed it ever so gently, whispered against her jaw, “At last I gain another peek under the mask,” she trembled, “and I love what I see. Yours is a whole new and bewildering kind of beauty, Miss Bell. It humbles me.”

“Billy…” she was nearly half out of the window to kiss him with passion.

“I must go,” he said suddenly, putting her back in her window and pulling away as if with great pain, ripping himself from delicious sin, “If I stay, my passion will only advance and we would surely draw the attention of your housemates.”

“Make haste back to your bed,” she reluctantly ordered, tugging on the lapels of his coat and adjusting his scarf, “I want you to be properly warmed and rested.”

“It may be some weeks before I can see you again,” he warned, “Pray hold to this and remember that I love you, and I always will.”

><><><><><><><<><><><><><><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<> 

 _My Beloved Billy_ ,

_I am strengthened by our love. I woke this morning smiling and sang as I swept the floor. When Edward bade me to quiet myself, Mother made herself free to ask the room why I should be singing at all when I have been so recently “rejected by Mr. Buxton and forgotten by the tiresomely rebellious son.” She went on to say “You were nothing to him but a mild fancy, a way to get at his father. He had no intentions of keeping you once he’d tainted you.”  She went on to preach that I had it coming, attempting to marry when God has forbidden it._

_She said all of this to me, yet I did not even flinch. I thought of your hands warming mine and turned away to smile. Edward made a long winded comment in reply to Mother but I heard not a word of it._

_I will tell you what was occupying my thoughts. The human heart begins so fragile, likely to break at the slightest disappointment, yet each trial strengthens it in measure so that, even as the disappointments grow to deliver more and more powerful blows, the heart withstands. Imagine if a heart can pause, take a step out of its place in the world and have a look at all that it must endure in one wide picture. It must be staggering._

_Yet it cannot be, I think, as big as our love._

_Yours until I am dead,_

_Peggy Bell_

_XOXOXO_

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Edward arrived in the middle of the railroad works right in the middle of dinner time. He pulled William out of the soup line with a brow set low. “We must talk in private.”

“What is this about?”

“You and my sister,” Edward said tightly. William’s tent-mates traded looks and winces, and patted him on the shoulder as he dispatched himself with Edward Bell. They began to walk to the edge of camp, where they would be alone.

“I know you came to the cottage the other night.”

“I assure you I was only—“

“I know. I heard it all in its entirety. I sleep in the room straight above her, and cracked my window when I heard a noise. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I was so astounded…”

“What astounds you? Peggy and I have proclaimed our love, and announced our engagement. It is not secret.”

“I confess that until I heard it with my own ears, I could not comprehend your feelings for her. I thought for sure your arrangement was merely a tool to take her from our mother’s home, to provide some financial security. It was not until I heard you revel in the feeling of her beard that it became clear to me the reality of your feelings for one such as she.”

William felt his empty stomach turning and was glad that he had not eaten yet. He felt hot around the ears and cold in his sweaty palms at the notion that Edward now thought of him as—well, as he was. A man who liked men. Only that was not it entirely. “Please know that it is your sister’s spirit that I love, her poor trapped soul—I love her with intensity enough to find curious interest in the rest of her.”

Edward hummed. “Yes. I care not to know the subtle details. That is not my reason for finding you today.”

“What is, then?” William asked, brows swooping low.

 “You cannot keep meeting at her window,” Edward replied, “You’ll wake mother and then Peggy will be all but tied to the kitchen table to keep her from you. Our father strove to see her happy. He even turned in his holy orders and uprooted us all merely for her _contentment_ , but he never saw her like this--like what you do to her. She is alive in a way I have never seen. It hurts my heart to think what my father would say to my mother and myself for denying her you.”

William smiled at Edward and gripped his shoulder. The man was not half bad when he wanted to be. Edward repeated himself sternly, “I still do not give my blessing for a wedding--I think even my father would draw the line there. But…” Edward looked down and away, “But love is not contingent on the establishment of matrimony. It would not taint her, I think, if the two of you carried on together.”

William was stricken; could not believe his ears. Was this a minister’s own son condoning fornication? Even _sodomy_?

“Intercourse is an expression of love,” Edward mumbled somewhat awkwardly. “If she can never marry, she should at least know love.”

“Edward… I…” William considered revealing the events of Captain Brown’s party, but thought better of it. Not only was it a private affair, but it had not been an equal experience; merely a test. He swallowed intense longing at the thought of falling apart _with_ her next time.

“Soon enough our parents will separate the two of you,” Edward said with resolve, “If your circumstances do not do the job, first.” A dismal look around the place, “At least this way, she will have memories to enjoy. I do not understand her, but I know I would hate to see her as dreadful as she’d been when we tried to send her off to school. So I will help you. It would be best, naturally, if she were to come to you. Where do you lodge?”

Blushing, William motioned to a tent, “That wouldn’t do at all. I share with four other men, a bunk barely wide enough for myself.”

“I recommend you remedy that, Mr. Buxton. As I’ve said: you aren’t going to have a chance at her forever.”

Astounded, blushing, and suddenly extremely anxious at the thought that he was losing time, losing precious time to be with his darling love, William nodded his agreement.

The two men stood eyeing one another in deep understanding, and Edward was gone.


	7. Part 2 Chapter 7

Freshly shaved, dressed and with hair in order, Peggy sat in front of the tiny square of looking glass and drew in a slow deep breath. On the exhale, she smiled at her own reflection, eyes dancing with the joyful promises made to her by her beloved at the window. “Billy loves you,” she told herself. “Today you will endeavor to deserve him in every way. No bitterness. No sad thoughts. Rejoice in the love God has brought to you, Peggy Bell, and be patient.”

Then she put her elbows on the table, grasped her hands together and closed her eyes for prayer. Of course, what she ended up doing was talking to her father. This had become the shape of all of her prayers since his death,

 _Please look over Billy, father. Lend him strength to endure the path our love has sent him on. I feel it in my heart that you would agree that our love is a gift that we must hold fast to. I hope you can see that we are trying with all of our might. But this world is so very distrustful of things that are different. I will suffer all that I must, only please do not…._ Her lip wobbled at the thought and she opened her eyes to look up at the dusty beams of her ceiling. _Do not burden him so much that he quits me. Please, please do not let him be discouraged. He has given up so much for me and I fear one day he will realize it is too much. Therefore, I ask you with all of my heart and soul that you should let only me suffer, and ensure that he stays true. I promise I will love him the way you designed love to be, selflessly and forever._

<<<><<<><<<><<>>> 

Peggy worked at her usual chores with a smile tilting her lips. Some day she will be the mistress of her very own little cottage, and it will be William’s smalls that she hangs on the line, not her brothers. Their cottage will always have fresh flowers on the table. And they’ll save for a small piano so that they can play together in the evenings. Their home would be filled with love and laughter and music and light and flowers, and friends…

On the last day of Edward's weekend from Manchester, he went into town; and when he returned, he announced that he had just had a talk with “your William Buxton.” Peggy, confused and even a little outraged, paused in hanging out the rest of the clothes and demanded to know what it was he said. Her heart hammered. Had there been shouting? Threats? Had Edward hurt William at all?

“I gave him my blessing,” Edward replied, with a moue of discomfort. Peggy frowned in shock. Had she comprehended him correctly? Her brother sighed, “I heard him visit you last night—Yes, I heard the whole of the exchange between you. I must say, that man is a fool if ever I met one.” Edward did not attempt to hide his disdain, and gave a kind of shrug as if it wasn’t his problem, “But he certainly loves you.”

“Yes, he does,” Peggy replied, still reeling. Was Edward standing before her in full understanding? A moment later, the brother she knew was back.

“He’ll be the only one to do so in your lifetime, likely, so I figure you ought to capitalize while you can.”

From there, he made a strong argument for how she and William would never be allowed to stay together. It hurt Peggy’s heart to listen to his argument, but he told no lies. He even sounded very much like the father they shared, the one she missed so much, when he spoke of the hard truths. Their mother, scorned by Mr. Buxton and afraid for Peggy’s soul, was tenacious. She would die before allowing them to be together.

Likewise, the church outlawed it, and should their secret ever come to light it could mean imprisonment if not death. And then there was the fact that William’s father had enough money to send William far away forever, should something come along to convince him it would be for his son’s best interests. Like, for example, the welfare of his soul.

It was a fairly short talk, but by the end of it Edward had convinced her that she should seize the day and have Billy as much as humanly possible before they were ripped apart forever. She had, after all, already gotten a taste of pleasure from him, and though no wedding had taken place, vows had been traded and hearts bound together. She felt married to her beautiful Billy Buxton. If the test did not yet feel like sin, then how could anything else?

Edward had a convincing argument which supported this suspicion. Intercourse is an act of love, and love does not have to follow the rules of marriage. Love is love, it will not be tamed.

<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>> 

That evening, Peggy did something unprecedented since she was a eleven. She dressed in boy’s clothes, some of Edwards. They were a little baggy, but did the trick. She scrubbed away the beeswax and tucked her hair under a cap. All the while her fingers trembled. A part of her cried out and asked what she was doing, if she had gone mad. Another part of her had its eyes fixed on William Buxton and would not surrender.

To Peggy’s surprise, she did not hate what she found in the mirror, this pale, scrawny boy in ill-fitting clothes, with bright eyes. Once upon a time, such a sight would have had her in tears, would have had her feeling utterly vulnerable and likely to fall into a million pieces.

But now… she stared in idle wonder at the reflection. So this was the long forgotten Gregory. He did not seem so frail. So out of place. So alone. In fact, Peggy believed that had she ever met this Gregory on the street, she would like him instantly for she could see a fiery spirit in his eyes. She could see that he owned what space he took. Gregory had a right to be in this world and he knew it.

She met with a moment of doubt and trepidation when Edward tapped at her bedroom door and asked if she was ready. He had agreed to help her sneak out. If she opened that door, he would see her in these clothes. He would see Gregory again.

She opened the door with her chin up.

Edward stepped through and closed the door behind him, frowning as he looked her up and down, “Heavens, Peggy, you look like a half starved eunuch.”

“Very good. So long as I do not look like a girl.”

“Perhaps I ought to walk with you…” Edward mused.

“No, someone must stay here in case Mother becomes suspicious. You will keep mother from my room with any excuse.”

“Yes, alright. And you do look like a boy. Like you’re about twelve or something. It is unnerving.”

With Edward’s help, she sneaked out of Bell Cottage as her mother slept. She had never been out and about alone at night yet here has planned to make her way, alone, to the railway works. This alone, was a daunting adventure, but it in no way lessened her resolve. A girl would be in danger, but a boy hurrying as if on an errand for the master of some big house would fair just fine.

Peggy focused on her goal. She would spend her first night with Billy, in his arms, as one with him in body as they already were in heart. That was enough to walk to China through all manner of danger if she had to. Her heart pounded and ached. It was a good thing Peggy had no time to think, for if she did she would not recognize herself. This was without a doubt, the raciest thing she had ever done, or even considered doing, and that included the night she, unmarried, lifted her skirts and put a man’s hand on her bare body.

 It was that very experiment that drove her now down the dark lane towards town. The moon was bright, lighting her way. She could only hear the wind in the trees, the night insects, and her own feet in Edward’s boots hitting the ground as she made herself free to run. How easy it was to run without skirts!

Her father. His last words to her, ever. There on his sick bed, labored breathing, hand already going cold. _Remember, Peggy, all that I ever taught you. We walk a fine line between happiness and sin. You more so than the rest of us. Be happy but do not be lost to me. Live so that we may meet again, hm_?

She realized the error of her ways--acting on lust and whimsy, flying in the face of God, ruining herself for the sake of pleasure. All at once, Peggy became so deeply ashamed she nearly knelt there in the dark lane to cry. She held her heart, afraid it might break and fall right out of her chest.

 _This is not the right way, Peggy Bell_ , she told herself. _You know it is not_.  

She could almost feel her father at her side, taking her arm. _Come now, Peg, I know Edward put you up to this. You should have known from the off that if it came from his head, it’s not something you ought to be doing._

Turning to go back home, she found she could not take a single step in that direction. She almost thought she would rather die than to go back to that small, cold little lifeless house.

That was when she decided it. She would not go back. _I’m sorry, Father, for nearly letting you down. But I swear to you I will not. I will do this the right way._

She WILL find Billy tonight, but she will make him marry her first. Yes, they will run away together and marry--it will be official. Her heart pounded and her feet picked up speed, racing down the dark lane. Yes, it will be as sacred a union as God intends--and then they will be together in flesh as they have been in heart.

<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>> 

“Bill, a lad with papers needs to speak with ya,” a mud covered man said to the form hunched over a desk covered in calculations. William looked up. Glancing around, he perceived a young man in a cap and vest, carrying a satchel of scrolls, and started toward him. William’s mind was on business until the stranger looked up from the ground into William’s eyes. He nearly had a conniption, and barely swallowed her name as it sprang out of his soul in delight, _Peggy!?_

Her blue eyes shone brightly, her smile twisted into a look of seriousness, her brow lower than usual. Her hair was tucked up under the cap, the beard he had felt that night shaved away but with no beeswax to smooth her complexion, her gait and wardrobe did enough to transform her into the young man she would have been had her father been less understanding.

“I had to see you again, Billy,” she whispered secretly in her usual, soft voice. He could not find words. Uncertainty flickered across her face, and all at once, William remembered her confession that in men’s clothes she felt naked and vulnerable. He moved closer instantly as if to shield and protect her. “Darling,” he whispered, glancing around. “This surprise has filled me with such happiness. I am speechless. You…you have worn trousers again…”

“I could not stay away from you another night, and I feared entering this camp at nightfall as a lady. I have not slept for praying that you would appear at my window again but you have not and so I have come to yours.”

William laughed happily. “Are you not missed at home?”

“I have come with Edward’s aid. He heard every word we spoke at my window, for his room is above mine and he heard a noise so cracked his window…he was quite astounded by what he heard.”

An impish quirk of his lips to one said prompted her eyebrows to meet over her nose and he quickly explained, “I already knew that--he came to see me yesterday. He quite surprised me by offering his support.” William frowned at the memory of the man offering up his sister’s virtue on the grounds that they would never be allowed to marry. It was, in a way, supportive, but in a way not at all. The things he had been given Edward's blessings to do--to have her as much as possible out of wedlock before he lost her--brought color to his cheeks and he found he didn’t have the nerve to relate the conversation they’d had.

“And he surprised me, as well,” she explained. “He wants me to be happy and he knows that my heart is set on you. These are his clothes, and he is at home, pretending that I have gone to bed early and keeping mother from my room.”

“Darling, what a risk you run by doing this. I am moved and terrified.”

“I do it for love. Our love. I do not have the strength to live without it another day. Let us run away. Let us wed tonight like the Browns—our true friends will forgive the elopement.”

“Peggy,” William said weakly, for she voiced every desperate wish that plagued him at the beginning and end of each day. They could not talk here, in the open. “Darling, come with me.”

He glanced around, took her hand, and led her into a tent where the explosives were housed. In the close privacy of the off limits tent, he swept her into a hug and kiss so passionate that her boots left the ground and her hat fell from her head. Her golden hair fell like a waterfall down around her shoulders, covering his hand and wrist as he held her face.

“Marry me,” she panted against his skin as the kiss broke and he suckled her neck. “Tonight. Take me away. Make me yours.”

His body pulsed in agreement to such a plan, but his mind stayed sharp, and detected her little oversight. He grinned wickedly as he pointed out, “I already have.”

“No. More than touch. Marry me now and I’ll give you everything,” she promised desperately, pushing her hips against him.

“ _Peggy_.”

“Will you?”

“We cannot.”

“Why not?”

“God knows I want to, Peggy Bell. But not this way. If I am to do this, it must be done correctly. Properly. I am not yet a decent husband. I have no money to support you.”

“I don’t care about money. I’ll live in a shack in the woods if it means I can be your wife.”

“I do care, Peggy. I have promised to take care of you.” He sat her back away from him firmly. “And I shall.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Peggy’s plea to elope ( _marry me now and I will give you everything_ ) would not sit still in William’s mind for the next three days. It ran amok from sun up to sun down, leaving him with very little energy to think on important business matters or participate in the idle conversations of his new friends. They noted his distraction and asked after it, and, lost for answers, he sought advice.

And then wished immediately that he had not.

For they all advised that he conquer as soon as possible—they knew not nor cared to know anything more about Peggy Bell than her name and age and hair color—and yet they advised that she wanted him as much as he yearned for her and to wait until someone more worthy snatched her away was foolhardy.

To this, William had to agree. Though he knew that Peggy’s prospects began and ended with him, there was still the mathematical possibility that a handsome stranger would drift into town with more money and promises than he could make at present. He could not even afford to rent a private dwelling where he might make love to her.

The stress of it began to keep William up at night, so that one cold blistering morning, his sluggish mind could barely make sense of the documents in front of him. His new position as senior agent set him in charge of clerical duties, of which he was usually more than capable of performing. But today, with no sleep and wrought-iron tension in every muscle in his body, he just felt tired.

At lunch time, he ignored the bell in favor of making sense of the papers on his desk. Hunger in his belly brought sharpness to his mind that eased the task at long last. He sorted quickly, and made notations to remind himself later. Beside him, Captain Brown opened his lunch pail to eat and work at the same time, but paused to frown at a curious vegetable he found.

“What is that, sir?” William asked, amused.

“It seems my wife has flourished my meal with a decorated radish.”

The old man seemed more disgusted by the vegetable than moved by the thought. William smirked, wondering if there should be a day when he would find little treasures that marked Peggy’s devotion to caring for him as a wife. Then he wondered if anyone would actually let them be man and wife after all. And then he just became tired again and turned his mind back to the task at hand.

“I am putting things in order for next Monday’s demolition. The Tinden Edge Cottages?” he double-checked his notations and found that he had circled his own father’s name and property. “Yes. Now, you advanced the money to Edward Bell, and he was to deliver the deeds. But he has not done so, so we cannot knock them down.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

William felt at odds as they approached the Buxton house. This _used to be_ his home. It still felt like so--as if his new place, his work, and his whole new life, were not permanent. As the maid showed them inside, he set his teeth on edge and conceded that this place would always feel like home for the childhood memories that echoed here. But he was now an adult, and one day he would have a different house with Peggy were a lifetime of memories would unfold.

As much as he missed it here, as much as he missed a life of leisure and luxury, he would never in a million years trade Peggy for it.

His father looked at his muddy coat and boots with cool distain, and William bit the inside of his cheek, stubbornly proud of his attire and the proof it presented that he made his own money.

“Mr. Buxton, did you sign the deeds for Tinden Edge Cottages?” Captain Brown asked.

“Yes.”

“And did you give them to Edward Bell?”

“I did both things. In exchange for the money from the railway company.”

“So you did receive our payment?” William asked. His father's eyes flashed at William's use of the word _our_ , throwing his lot in with laborers instead of gentlemen.

“Of course,” Mr. Buxton replied. “It was proffered in sovereigns. A full 100 of them. Less two I gave to pay the cook. I being late for Michaelmas Day.”

“100 pounds?” William asked, distressed by the number. “The price charged to our company was 60 more than that,” he explained. Mr. Buxton’s face hardened. “I suggest you tread with care. If you proceed with this line of suspicion, you besmirch the name of a _promising_ young man.” The second scornful look lashed at William with the sharpness of a whip. He bore the strike stubbornly, for he had already squared with the fact that he would never see eye to eye with his father.

Before Peggy, William would have left the house vowing to treat his sons with more respect. Now, he realized that freedom Peggy granted from such chains. He would never have sons. He would never, by design or accident, become his father. And with that fortifying thought, William smiled in the midst of the business crisis.


	8. Part 2 Chapter 8

Three days since their rendezvous at the railway works camp passed without a letter from William. On the fourth, Peggy hurried to check the letter box and found it empty yet again. Disappointment stirred unpleasantly in her belly. Why was he not writing? Did he--

Hands closed roughly on her arms and turned her around. She screamed, a blurry sound of broken octaves as her voice nearly dropped in its alarm. But it was only her brother.

Edward stood in filthy, ripped clothing. His face had a three day's beard and he stank. “I thought you at least would be glad to see me,” he said at an attempt at humor.

“I’m shaking Edward! And so are you. Why aren’t you in Manchester?”

He started sniveling. “You must help me, Peggy!”

Inside the house, mother flew around the kitchen in a near panic to nurse her favorite child. Peggy warmed some milk on the stove and handed him a cup.

“Hot milk will not heal me. I need brandy!” he spit angrily, still shaking as if out in the cold. She recognized fear, and frowned in disgust at her own brother. He had already relayed enough of his predicament to them for Peggy’s disappointment in William’s absent letter to be overshadowed by her disappointment in her older brother.

“How much money is missed, and when did your superiors perceive it?” Peggy demanded sternly.

“Peggy, do not try him with your questions!” Mother reprimanded. “See how he trembles. I’m sure they are mistaken. You are adept with all the modern ways of keeping books.”

“You must go to Mr. Buxton.” Peggy insisted. “He has been your benefactor and should not hear of this from others.”

“He must bathe first, and ply his razor.” Mother inserted. Peggy sighed, for the first time in her life deeming the use of a razor unnecessary. She began to comment on his freedom to present a beard in harried situations when the sound of horses outside cut her off. Peggy darted to the window to see. “There is no time. It is Mr. Buxton and Captain Brown is with him.”

Edward jumped to his feet and announced that he would hide in the cupboard. Peggy and her mother then hastened to make the place look calm and clean of guilty souls. The gentleman entered the kitchen with somber attitudes and relayed their version of the facts, which was the simple truth that Edward had disappeared with 60 shillings.

“He cannot be located, Mrs. Bell.”

“Can he not be found at his place of work or lodgings?”

“No, he has disappeared entirely. As well he might, for it transpires he took the cottage deeds and handed them to strangers to guarantee a debt.”

This was shocking news, for Edward had not mentioned that. Peggy felt her mother’s hackles rise. “But we have NEVER been in debt,” the lady said fiercely.

“It is clear to me that yours is an honest and frugal home,” Captain Brown said “Your son chose a different path and squandered money at the gambling tables.”

Mother gasped. Peggy tried to comfort her, but was shoved off. The woman fled the room in distress, leaving Peggy to deal with the intimidating visitors.

“If Edward is caught, he will be convicted. The sentence will be transportation at the very least.”

“If you would be kind enough to wait outside, Captain Brown,” Mr. Buxton said. “I might conclude by speaking to Miss Bell in private….” The captain departed, and Mr. Buxton motioned to a chair. “Sit down Peggy.”

She seated herself as if upon a cushion of pins. William’s father leveled her with a hard look. “I can help Edward. Whether he is found or not, I can clear his way.”

“It cannot be up to you. You are not his only victim,” she said.

“His crimes are entirely financial. I have a means to set them straight. Besides, I charged him with too much, supervised him idly.”

His generosity in this matter felt grossly out of place next to his feelings on the marriage. It was unfair and yet another example of others liking Edward more. Peggy set her jaw. “How can you still care so much for him?”

“He is a young man. He deserves a chance to meet the world unhindered…..Severe your connection to my son, and I will restore your brother’s reputation.”

It felt like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut. She blinked. “You have given thought to this. How else could you say it all so calmly?”

“It would be wrong of me to offer such a thing in haste.”

“And just as wrong of me to answer without thinking…I must ask you to leave now,” she stood, nearly in tears. “I will come to you tomorrow.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

“They will not hang you,” Peggy told her brother once they were alone in the house again. “It is not a capital offence.”

Edward sat nursing a mug of brandy and grimaced at her. “Do you want me to end up rotting in some prison ship? Do you want me dead of maltreatment or disease? Do not think that you could forgive yourself. Because your heart would tear in two!”

A cool rage settled over Peggy and she balled her fist. “Do not even _think_ to talk to me about _my_ heart!”

“If I go to gaol, your name will be tainted, and so will your precious William’s too. It’ll be hard enough for him to make his way without relationship by marriage to a felon such as I.”

Peggy stared at her only brother as if he were a stranger in his skin. Where was the brother who defended her against other’s hatred? It seemed he had been eaten alive by the greed and selfishness of the man before her, who would sink her only chance at happiness for his own gain.

She turned her back on the dog and left the room.

A night of hard thinking brought the sunrise and she dressed for a trip to the Buxton home. Her journey through Cranford was long, and her legs tired quickly but she charged on in haste, wishing this unpleasant thing to be past. She knocked on the door and was awarded an eager audience with William’s father.

She sat in his parlor and spoke calmly the resolution she had found in the night. “I will not give up William, sir. But I will write to him and tell him of all that has passed.”

“Will you make a villain of me?”

“No. Because I believe you love him just as much as I. If he should choose to give me up, I shall accept it. And trust that you may still do something for my brother.”

Sound outside drew their attention and a knock landed on the door. A moment later, a maid stepped into the room. “The constables are at the door, sir,” she said with a hasty curtsy.

Mr. Buxton hastened to the door. Peggy listened to their muddled voices and then Mr. Buxton returned with papers in hand. “A copy of the warrant for your brother’s arrest. Signed by Sir Charles Maulver. I cannot counter mind it now. The law must take its course.”

“He will have to leave Cheshire,” she breathed, heart hearting. “And somehow start afresh.”

“Peggy, the magistrates will seek him out. No, for his own safety, he will have to go abroad.”

“Abroad? But he does not have good judgment, Mr. Buxton. He cannot be trusted to find wise friends or sound employment. He’s already made ill by greed and his own weakness. He would be at risk of even greater hardship abroad… And if I do not help him, I will be as much the author of his fate as he.” It grew and solidified in her mind, and she could not strike it out. This was her duty.

“What will you do?”

“Go with him,” she said tightly. Her breath had ceased to exist. “Out of England. Try and set him on a decent path.”

“You are not his keeper, Peggy.” Mr. Buxton said firmly.

“I am his only hope.” She took up the newspaper on the table. “There will be a list in here, telling of the ships that sail from Liverpool.”

“And what of your engagement to my son?” his voice was hard, accusatory. She met the man’s eye and held fast to the love she felt for his son. “We are tested already, sir. And we have not wavered.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>>><<>> 

On her way back through Cranford, she stopped at Miss Matty’s to retrieve her property. If she was to live without William, then she would need the precious letters she had been storing with her kind, elder friend. It was as Miss Matty had said; these letters would be all she had left of him.

“I do not relish dragging you into our sad affairs, Miss Matty.” Peggy said, dashing out a letter to her beloved William in a shaky hand. “I made a pact to act in secret. William must not know. But when I am gone, if you can see that he receives this, I will thank you for eternity.”

She folded the note, kissed it, and left it in Miss Matty’s hand. Then, with her heart twisted in her throat, she hastened home to begin packing.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><>> 

“Canada? _Canada_?” Mother shrieked. “You said you schemed to help him. What is the difference between this and transportation?”

Peggy threw items into her trunk, minding to take only the essentials. Her thoughts turned her developing plan around and around again as she tested the finer details. With Mr. Buxton’s help, they could be out of the country by tomorrow morning. “He will not travel in shackles, nor be indentured to labor in a desert without pay! _And he will have me with him_!” she shouted.

“I cannot credit that you would leave me here alone!” Mother wailed. Edward grabbed the woman’s frail shoulders. “Mother, you must _try_ to match me! You must strive to bear this!”

Mr. Buxton’s horses at last arrived. “It is Mr. Buxton,” Peggy said from the window. “We must hurry!”

Edward helped load the trunk onto the carriage and then climbed in after Peggy without meeting Mr. Buxton’s eye. When Peggy gave him a sharp look, he mumbled, “Thank you for helping me, sir.”

He did not apologize, and did not seem to even think of it. Peggy gave her brother a hard look, but he looked out of the window instead. Mr. Buxton met her eye and shook his head minutely as if to say _leave it be, save his pride_.

The trip to Hanbury Halt was speedy, and Edward seemed to have lifted himself out of the shock of departing from his home forever. He took care of the trunk the moment they stopped at the train station, whilst Mr. Buxton held Peggy back.

“Peggy, when you get to the docks, go directly to the Red Star offices. You have my letterhead. Here are the funds.” He pressed a small purse into her palm and closed her fingers, holding her hand for a moment with true regret in his dark eyes. “I thought little of you once. I wonder now whether you’re not braver and better than I took you for.”

Peggy gulped, feeling guilty that she should earn his respect while continuing to lie to him about her born gender. The boarding call sounded, and Mr. Buxton helped her climb upon the train as he said he final farewells. Peggy echoed them with a thick tongue, wondering if he would have been so kind to her if she were not leaving for good.

Her heart ached for William and her eyes stung, but she reached deep into herself to cling to the most fundamental of her father’s lessons. Family was the most important gift given from God, and must not be forsaken.

She found a seat in an empty compartment and dried her eyes before a tear could fall. It hurt to breathe but she soldiered on. This was necessary. It was her duty as Edward’s family to look after him. Perhaps this had been meant to happen all along…perhaps it was true that two men could never marry…at least God had given her these short, sweet months of love. She mustn’t ask for more than that. She must be thankful for all that she had been given.

_Dearest William, I will never forget you._

Edward entered the compartment and made himself comfortable in the opposite window seat. “Where have you concealed the purse?” he asked.

“I’m not telling you.” Peggy said firmly. There was to be new rules in Canada. Edward would not touch a shilling.

“I wonder if there’s enough money for us to go first class on the boat?” he mused with a sneer. “No one in steerage will be of use to us.”

Peggy stared once more at this total stranger, struggling to hold fast to her duties as family to one she could so scarcely recognize. She was quickly distracted from her anger by the first jolt of the train.

As the locomotive began to move, Peggy’s mind went back to her first train ride and the life affirming declarations that had been made that day….

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

After great deliberation that took all of five minutes, Miss Matty had made her decision. She simply would not be able to live with herself if she did not give her upmost effort in stopping this horrible rift from happening between two sweet souls in love. The late Mrs. Buxton would be appalled to learn that her only son’s chance at love was dashed on the rocks by her own husband. And Peggy Bell deserved far better than a life abroad, chained to her idiot brother, loveless and without hope.

Miss Matty hastened to the railroad works.

It was such a nosey and dirty and frightening place. She did not like the number of men milling about, their eyes following her, their voices lowering to whisper to one another. She prayed for strength and walked briskly toward the center of the encampment, where the cleaner, more respectable gentleman seemed to gather.

“Gentlemen,” she interrupted their calculations nervously. “I do not like to disturb you, but I am in search of Mr. William Buxton.”

“Oy! BILL!” one of them shouted over his shoulder. “THERE’S AN OLD LADY HERE FOR YA!”

To her relief, William came forward instantly out of a tent, looking delighted and puzzled to see her. “Miss Matty? What a pleasant surprise. What on earth are you doing here?”

“I have distressing news…” she commenced to filling him in on all that he had missed regarding Peggy Bell’s secret deal with his father. “…and so to save her brother, she has agreed to go away with him to god-knows-where. She has left the letter in my care to post to you later this evening, but I could not bear it. You must go after her!”

A horse was fetched immediately and William swung up into the saddle. Miss Matty said, “You must make haste if you wish to catch the train.”

“I am in your debt, Miss Matty.” He kicked the horse into a gallop.


	9. Chapter 9 Part 2

William’s heart sat upside down in his throat. His brain was a blizzard of confusion and anger. How could this be happening? He knew to blame his father. But it made no sense to him how Peggy could leave him without even a word. He had the letter clutched in his fist with the reins, but he had no intention of reading her goodbyes. She was going nowhere without him.

As he rode fast and hard, he could not help but remember the first time he had galloped with Peggy Bell, and his heart swelled with the love he had felt even then for the magnificent girl. He remembered now why she would agree with his father’s wicked plan. Her heart was perhaps too large and forgiving. Edward Bell hardly deserved her—and she deserved far more than a wretched thief for a brother. William’s wavering opinion of the young man finally nailed itself down. He did not care for Peggy’s brother. He might have some romantic notions about love and the definition of marriage, but he was not a decent fellow. William became glad (even as he raced a train that was likely to take his love forever out of his grasp) that he had not taken Edward’s advice to love Peggy fully before the wedding, for he did not take advice from scoundrels.

The sound of the train’s whistle came to him from just over the hill, and the possibility of catching her became a near certainty. William kicked the horse into a faster charge up the hill. As he crested the rise, the locomotive came into sight, as did the obstruction in the railroad. His eye lit upon Mrs. Forrester’s pajama-clothed cow moments before the engine collided with the poor, dumb creature.

A scream rent itself from William’s body as his heart plummeted down to his stomach and both hit the ground. The speeding train jumped its tracks and the boxes turned over and piled up with such a tremendous crash that William’s blood ran cold and his ears rang.

“No,” he breathed in horror. All he could think of was his sweet Peggy riding in second class, and then basic engineering came back to him and he realized that the true danger had yet to pass.

When he reached the wreck sight, there were several passengers unharmed enough to offer their assistance to those less fortunate. He did not see Peggy anywhere. He shouted her name as he mounted an overturned boxcar. From out of the window came a familiar face, and William rushed him. “Edward! Is Peggy with you?”

“Out of my way!” Edward yelled, struggling out of William’s desperate hold. William let him pass in search of the only passenger that mattered at present. She was in the compartment that Edward had just fled, her little shape lying in a heap amongst broken glass. He shouted down to her, “Peggy! Peggy? Peggy can you hear me?”

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Peggy stirred when she heard a familiar voice shouting for her. She did not at first know where she was, but she answered, “William?”

He was somehow above her. “Take my hand!” he begged. “Reach for me!” She stood slowly and took his wrist, still unsure of what had happened. As he lifted her with all of his strength, the events returned to her, and she looked around, dazed at the wreckage.

 “I have you,” he assured, breathless. She braced herself as he hauled her to the top and winced, crying out in pain when she saw the blood. “My hand! I fear I’ve been cut!” she cried.

“Peggy, listen to me,” William said, taking her face and forcing her to pay attention. “I will ease you to the ground as best I can. Then you must make haste, away from the wreckage. I will come and find you, but for now, I must help the others.”

Once her feet touched ground, she did as bid and began to move away from the chaos. She walked in a daze for several meters before her weakened knees gave out and she dropped to the grass. Her hand needed to be seen to immediately. She found a spare cloth nearby in the wreckage and wrapped the cut as best as she could one handed.

Her head felt fuzzy, and she did not know how long she had been unconscious, or how William could have reached them so quickly, or where Edward even was. Alarm struck through her when she remembered the money, and she checked the purse to be sure Edward had not taken it.

“Let me take charge of the purse!” Edward called, swooping from out of nowhere and snatching it from her weak fingers.

“Edward!” she cried, “What are you doing?”

He turned and grinned at her, then ran off toward the still-burning engine. It gave such an otherworldly whine, like a devil ready to kill. Peggy called to her brother helplessly, but the engine’s blast silenced them both.

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

The rescue wagons raced into Cranford. William lay unconscious in Peggy’s lap, his arm soaked in crimson. Peggy stroked his sooty brow, so numb she was shaking, so numb her prayers were heartbeats thundering in her ears. _Let me keep him. Please, let me keep him._

The wagons stopped outside of Johnson’s and men took him away. Peggy followed closely, and ended up on a makeshift table with his heavy head back in her lap whilst the whole town of Cranford bustled around her. William’s gashed arm was bad, but not critical, and thus ignored presently by the only doctor. Peggy did the best she could to staunch the bleeding.

“I was told my son was near the blast.” Mr. Buxton’s voice reached Peggy from afar, and she called out, “He is here, sir.”

The gentleman rushed forward, ashen face beneath his quivering grey beard. “Has he survived?”

She nodded, choked.

“William,” the old man moaned, worried.

“But my brother does not,” she announced, crying at the memory of his snide smile moments before his life was taken by that blast. Even having seen it with her own eyes, she could hardly believe that he was truly gone.

“What have I brought about?” Mr. Buxton asked woefully.

“Sir, your place is with your son.” Miss Matty said. Her small frame was easily overlooked in the chaos of the little shop, but her assertive voice more than made up for it. “Other offices you may leave to me.”

Peggy combed her fingers through William’s tangled, sweaty curls, pleading silently with him to wake up. She could not imagine life without him. On those last few moments on the train before it had derailed, she had realized the impossibility of ever leaving him, for any purpose.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Stay with me, my love,” she whispered. His brow moved, and his good arm twitched. She resumed stroking his hair until he was taken away by the surgeon.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

William woke slowly and looked around the sitting room of the Buxton house. His arm ached and he dropped his head back to the pillows, wondering what had woken him from his pain-free sleep. It was the front door. Someone had knocked and the maid now answered it.

“Mr. Buxton is not at home.”

“Is William at home?” Peggy’s voice lifted William off his pillows. He winced, and his head spun as he clutched his bandaged arm, but he arranged his rumpled blankets to be presentable for her.

The front door closed, and the maid entered the room. William smiled at her and then looked to the empty doorway behind her, but no Peggy stepped through. He frowned. “I heard Peggy at the door.”

“Your father said you are to receive no visitors yet. You are too weak. But she left you this.”

William frowned at the green sprig presented to him, but then recognized it for what it was and smiled. He envisioned his love sitting in her private place, smelling the gorse and thinking of him. Now he could do the same as he thought of her.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Very little sun shone today. Edward’s grave lay next to Father’s with matching headstone and roses. The church bell tolled but neither Peggy nor her mother moved for home. They knelt beside the fresh mound of dirt, both so sunken in thought that they had not spoken a word through the entire service. His funeral had been part of a mass ceremony to commemorate the lives of all the train wreck victims. Edward’s only grievers were his two blood relatives. Mr. Buxton did not even appear, for William was still bedridden and in need of care.

Peggy listened to the muted bell and thought of sunshine filtering, weak, through the clouds. It was not a beautiful day, and looked like rain. Peggy feared she would be caught in it on her trip to see William.

It felt sinful to sit at a man’s burial service and think of others instead of the life lost, but Peggy could not tear her mind from William or her eternal gratitude that it had not been he who was taken from her.

When the tolling bell fell silent, Mother spoke hoarsely. “And now I suppose we must endeavor to be helpmeets.”

Peggy looked over at the poor, sallow woman and attempted to smile in agreement, but she was not seen by her mother’s vacant eyes.

<<>><<>><<>><<>> 

Upon returning to the cottage, Mother went to bed. Peggy brought her lunch on a tray and then departed for William’s with today’s clipping of gorse. She had not missed a day and would not while she had breath in her body, for these green branches were his reminder that she waited for him.

She had not been granted access to see him even once, and expected to simply knock on the door, hand off the cutting to the maid, and be on her way. But it was not the maid this time; it was William’s father who answered the door.

“Mr. Buxton!” Peggy cried in surprise. The man looked pale and sleep deprived, but his beard twitched when he saw her.

“I did not restore him just to break him down,” Mr. Buxton said, extending a hand. “William never wavered in his love for you. It is time to build.”

Just inside the door, Peggy spotted a most missed face.

“Erminina!” Peggy exclaimed at her friend descending the stairs. The shock of seeing her so unexpectedly brought a swell of emotion to Peggy, who suddenly felt the loss of her family now that the wound could be so effectively staunched by the presence of a sister. They kissed cheeks as Erminia explained,

“I came home to help nurse the invalid. But I was not required. My uncle was a most meticulous attendant. Come I will take you to him.”

William lay on the sofa beneath a blanket, his arm bandaged. She saw that he had endeavored to shave that morning, and it gave her wings to see that he lived by her rule. He slept peacefully, but she could not stay long.

“William?”

He stirred and opened one eye before gasping and becoming wide awake in his happiness to see her. He clutched her hand, rubbed it between both of his. His disused voice croaked out of his throat. “Have you seen the gorse?”

“There is not a flower to be had.” Peggy said, envisioning the bare little bush at their stream. “I should not have plucked it otherwise. The poor twigs look so stark…. Miss Matty once told me there was a saying. ‘When gorse is out of blossom, kissing is out of fashion.’”

William slowly sat up, chuckling. “This room is so warm they mistake the month for spring,” he said lowly. “And one of them bares a single, golden bud…”

Peggy followed his indicating finger and saw that her clippings had sprouted a single little flower. She gasped in happiness to see the miracle, and then read the expression in his eyes. If it was as she said, then they were allowed at least one kiss.

Peggy’s heart quickened and she sat still. She wished to apologize for trying to leave him, for getting him injured, but the words could not rise from her constricted chest. Her elation to be in his presence again had her paralyzed with joy and the same desire that had been stirred so dangerously the last time they stood in one another’s company as she promised to give him everything when they wed…. for if William could love her even in trousers, then she would deny him nothing for as long as she lived.

As if reading her thoughts, his eye sparkled. He caressed her smooth chin before they shared a kiss to restore what had nearly been lost. Had they been anywhere else but his father’s sitting room, then Peggy perhaps would not have found the will to stop kissing him, but as it was, she pulled away for decency.

William huffed lightly, and settled back into his pillows, too weak to argue with her. Their hands found one another and laced fingers.

“Am I to believe you have reconciled with your father? No more shouting, no more hatred between you?”

“Near death experiences awaken compassion in everyone.”

“Then we must not waste it. William, your father must know the truth about me now--it will be dishonorable to accept his respect without giving him the same.” She insisted, speaking firmly to staunch the wild panic that lit William’s eyes.

Now he lay perfectly still, looking at her with such large, young eyes, much like a boy afraid of the dark and begging that the candle not be blown out tonight. Peggy felt a curious blend of affection and worry at the sight.

“I know it is not an easy thing to do, but it is the trial God has set for us.”

“I am only worried about the hurtful things that will likely be said about you. It goes against everything I have sworn to do, Peggy. I cannot be the one to bring pain to you.”

“Then you shall not be. Rest here, and close your eyes. I will speak to your father now.”

“Not alone.”

“I am never alone,” Peggy reminded him. William could not refrain from rolling his eyes. “You will need more than the Holy Spirit on your side if--“

Laughing, Peggy caught his lips beneath the soft pad of her finger. “I shall have Erminia at my side. Do you not think I will win now?”

He laughed but held her hand, keeping her from leaving him. “Dearest, might I make one request?”

“Anything, Billy.”

His thumb stroked her knuckles back and forth as he considered his words carefully. Peggy began to feel uneasy before he at last puffed and laughed at himself. “I do not want this peace to end tonight. For the first time since my mother lived, my father does not pester me with politics, but listens to what I have to say. Peg, it is truly an amazing thing. I feel I am only just beginning to know my father. And I feel none of it would be possible if I were not on a sick bed. I support your decision to share your secret with whomever you deem worthy, but I ask that you wait to reveal yourself to my father. If our evening talks carry on as they have been, I have no doubt he would accept the truth more willingly. As yet, however, he stands to revert to his old, narrow minded ways. Time is all I ask. Time to heal and build before we set a battering ram to anything.”

“It sounds as though you are befriending your own father, Billy. Did you ever consider such a thing happening in your life?”

“My life left behind every best laid plan the moment I saw you galloping across the fields with your merry laughter.”

Warmth pooled at Peggy’s ears and she looked away. To be reminded of such days—when her secret had been buried, her life-force flickering—only to hear that she had already begun to win the heart of such a noble man, she felt humbled and praised God for the blessings in her life.

She lifted their joined hands and kissed William on the thumbnail. “I shall give you time to heal and mend your bridges.”

“Let us set the date for the Christmas Ball. I hear tale that Miss Matty is arranging the party. By the doctor’s accounts I shall be restored enough to escort my fiancé to the gathering. Let us pass the holiday in high spirits, and begin a new year with no secrets.”

“Agreed.” Peggy said. It was a sound plan. One that allowed a joyous Christmas filled with love, taking her favorite time of year and amplifying it to the extreme. And the truly remarkable part of it all? As the end of one year closes with merry tidings, so her life with William would, finally, begin.

_TO BE CONTINUED…_


End file.
